Blue Streak
by LinChungIsHot
Summary: As a member of the Angiola family, you weren't surprised to hear that Varia was in open rebellion against your ally Vongola. Then the Varia take over Angiola. And they whisk you away to their castle in Italy as prisoner. What else could possibly happen? Xanxus x reader, Belphegor x reader, slight Yamamoto x reader. Wow!
1. That Damn Prologue

**LCIH**: I'm juggling around different styles of writing. As opposed to my descriptive style, I have decided to try a story which is written with short, snappy sentences that focus less on description and character and more on feeling.

**LCIH**: So forgive me if it seems a little choppy. I know. I'm trying. Enjoy~!

* * *

It had been two years since you had gotten mixed up with the world of mafia—specifically one family. The Vongola Family.

Specifically one man—Yamamoto Takeshi.

God, you still had a weakness for him now. His caramel-colored eyes seemed to peer straight into your soul. You floundered about in his bottomless gaze each time he looked at you. His smile was so charming. Lopsided, crooked, and hot. And that ibody/i of his…

When you had been in Japan, you ran into the family and Yamamoto had taken quite a liking to you. You couldn't say you didn't like him, either. His infectious personality had beckoned to you like a moth to a flame. It didn't hurt that he was sexy, either.

You had been in Japan for business. Mafia business. Around those parts, you were known as Whisper.

Whisper, of the Angiola family. Its rough translation was "the whisper of the angel."

You were anything but an angel.

Ever since its creation, Angiola had been allies with the Vongola. It had always been like that. The family members helped each other out in times of crisis. No questions asked.

Recently—and the word was used loosely, for it referred to a couple of centuries ago—blood had been spilled between the two. Always the peacemaker, Angiola was able to clean it up before things got too out of hand.

And for a while, life went on.

Until the Varia slashed open the wound again. This time, blood gushed out. There was no stopping it.

Really, out of all the alliances Vongola had formed, you had expected Varia to be the one to betray them. They had always been the perfect candidate. So when you heard that Varia had attacked the Vongola, you weren't surprised. Not one, little bit.

Varia took over Angiola. You were shocked.

On terms of power, yes, Varia was strong. Fucking strong. So strong, it was almost ridiculous. Scratch that, it _was_ ridiculous. But Angiola had another thing working for them—intelligence. They should have been able to hold off on their own.

They _would_ have been able to hold off on their own, had you not been infatuated with Yamamoto Takeshi.

As one of Angiola's best, you were not proud with the fact that you had helped bring down your family as hostages.

A handful of you had been taken from the family base in Japan to be relocated in Varia's castle, the one hidden in Italy. As luck would have it, you were picked. Against your will, you were dragged onto an airplane for that long flight. You squirmed. You struggled. Even so, the grip of the two men on either side of you didn't loosen.

Angiola had wit. Varia had brute strength. In this scenario, strength beat wit.

You'd sat in the dark. Waited for the plane to take off. Your hands were bound together, lest you tried to escape.

Then something happened.

The Vongola had decided to help you out.

There was a flash of blue light. You were enveloped in a thick mist, one that seeped into your clothes and settled right over your skin. At first, you had been bewildered, unsure of what was happening.

A figure emerged from within the mist.

The Vongola Decimo himself.

You relaxed. It was Tsuna, in his cute, frail self. His image became clear; you gave him a smile. "Hey," you greeted. "Sorry, I'd normally stand up and welcome you properly, but I'm kind of held captive right now."

The mist around him slowly dwindled. Somehow, it was familiar. It was probably the work of the Mist Guardian, Mukuro. _Ugh. Him._

"Yeah. I see that." Tsuna smiled back wryly.

A slender brunette, Tsuna was a sweet boy, kind at heart. You loved him for it. If you had run into him on the streets, you would have thought he was just an ordinary boy. And he _was._ Honestly speaking, Tsuna had all the qualities of what a mafia boss shouldn't be like.

But he was smart. You'd give him that.

He was also rather powerful during his Dying Will modes.

"I'm sorry you had to get mixed up in this," he said. He wrung his hands in front of him nervously. You doubted he even knew he was actually wringing his hands. Ha. "You had nothing to do with this, and now you're getting shipped off to Italy with the Varia."

"It happens." You shrugged. Kind of hard to do when your hands were bound together, but you managed.

"Well, I guess, but they can't just _take _you, (y/n)—"

You cut him off there. "Whisper," you warned. "It's Whisper, get it?" You were already captured. The last thing you needed was a Varia member to know your real name.

"Right." Nod.

The floor suddenly moved, and you jolted forward. The plane was preparing to take off. Shit. How long would it be before you got to see Japan again? Italy would be your new home as of now.

Such an understatement, calling Italy your new home.

Turning back to Tsuna, you smiled. Tried not to make it shaky. "This is goodbye, then, Decimo. It'll be a while before I get to see your pretty face in person. Thanks for taking the time to come and chat, via Mukuro's mist."

The boy looked worried. Typical. But this time, it was concern for you.

"Tell everyone back home I said 'bye,' all right? Thanks, again." The plane bumped hard. Your stomach rolled. Damn it, you'd never been good with airplanes.

Tsuna's image began to fade. You turned away. It was kind of pathetic, having him see you like this. Not like you could do anything about it.

Mist surrounded him again. Before he was completely covered, he darted forward, close to you.

"We Vongola will be waiting for the angel's whisper," he murmured softly. "Return safely, _Sussurrare."_

You could see it. Ten years from now. He just needed experience. Ten years from now, he would make a great mafia boss.

You bowed your head forward. Knocked your forehead against his, once.

And then Tsuna was gone.

Leaving you alone in the darkness.

Why the fuck was there a terrible sense of warning in your gut?

From what you had heard, the Varia weren't pleasant. You hadn't actually spoken with the current family members. The old geezers had been replaced with new assassins. Wild rumors circulated, rumors about blood and gore. They weren't promising.

Well, you would just have to see for yourself.

Another harsh bump and your stomach rolled. Nausea, you told yourself. Not fear.

You closed your eyes. The blame fell on you partially, because instead of focusing on the crisis, you had been focusing on your attraction with a certain, delicious Vongola swordsman. But now that it was highly likely you wouldn't be seeing him for a while…

It was time to think. You were dreading the moment you would meet your captors. Fear was not something you were used to.

Intelligence always beats strength. You knew that.

Then why were you worrying? No use working yourself up in a panic.

How bad could the Varia be?


	2. Cold Insight

Somehow, you had fallen asleep. It wasn't a comfortable slumber, but given the circumstances, it was pretty good. You slept well for a woman with her hands bound before her, her legs tied together, and her body being jostled every now and then by the plane and its unsteady path through the air.

You should have been formulating a plan. Weeding out irrational thoughts. Looping endless circles through numerous possibilities. Going through all your options with a fine-toothed comb to see which ones would actually work.

And instead, you slept.

Fuck, you were such a reliable Angiola agent.

You didn't know how long you were out. The plane ride couldn't have lasted more than a few hours, and you suspected you slept for three.

But now, the floor beneath you stopped moving. It none-too-gently came to a gradual stop.

It had landed.

With a start, you snapped your head up. Drool was smeared all over your chin, and, disgusted, you went to wipe it off, but when your hands remained in front of you, you remembered where you were and exactly what situation you were in.

"Well, shit," you muttered. "I'm not ready to meet the king of the castle."

Varia was rumored to be wild and savage. Cold-blooded. The current family members were heartless and cruel. You had dealt with ruthless mafia families before, but there was a terrible sense of foreboding in your gut. Your gut's instincts were usually right.

What lay ahead of you and your fellow captives?

Speaking of which, where _were_ the other Angiola?

However wealthy they might be, Varia couldn't have flown two planes back to their castle. It was a risk not worth taking. It was easier to track with two planes, and you were sure they wouldn't be stupid enough to take the risk.

That meant the other Angiola were nearby. But _where? _

"Hello?" you called out softly.

Silence.

You tried again, louder this time. "Hello?"

There wasn't an answer. Darkness still surrounded you, an uneasy friend.

You let out a miserable-sounding sigh.

"Don't tell me that I was the _only _one taken." Oh, that would be terrible. Of all the things that could have possibly happened on the way here—

"I'm afraid that's what it has come to, my dear Whisper-chan."

Light flooded into your eyes suddenly, overloading your senses. You squeezed them shut. Pain hammered down your head. It tore at your still sleep-muddled brain. For a moment, you thought you would pass out.

Slowly, the pain lessened until it had subsided. You cracked open one eye.

The most flamboyantly-dressed man you had ever seen in your entire life stood before you in the doorway, the source of the light.

The man was clad in an open black trench coat. What looked like orange fur lined the hood of his coat. He wore skinny black jeans and heavy-duty boots. Dual-colored hair topped off his ridiculous appearance—brown with a lime green side part.

He smiled at you from behind dark sunglasses.

_…a friend? Or enemy? He sure doesn't look like an enemy…_

You opened your mouth to question him, but he interrupted you with a strangely-girlish sounding squeal.

"Wo-o-ow! You're so cute! When I heard that the famous Angiola member Whisper-chan was arriving, I thought you'd be some burly woman! But you're so frail!" He practically "_kyaa"-_ed at you.

Despite it, a smile tugged at your mouth. Was he for real?

Wait a minute. "How do you know my name?" you demanded.

Then his earlier words set in. "Hold on, did you just say I was the only Angiola to land?"

Smoothly, he held his hand up. To stop you from continuing.

"Ah, but I haven't even introduced myself! Your questions will be answered, dear, all in good time. Have some patience."

What little patience you had was fraying.

"I'm Lussuria, but you can call me Luss, because you're too precious." He dipped down into a bow. The grin he gave you was sinister. "Sun Candidate and a Varia assassin."

_Varia._

Fear zipped through your veins and in a near-panic attack, you lunged forward at him. Your hands, bound to the floor, and your ankles, shackled together, kept you back. "What did you do with the rest of my family? Where are they? I want to see them **now!"**

"Calm down, calm down."

You tried. It didn't work.

Lussuria scratched his neck. "All right," he sighed. "I ought to tell you. Your family is fine."

The river of relief was enough to wash you away. You stared at him, dumbfounded.

"But…you said…"

"They are fine," he repeated, "but they aren't here. Their plane landed in France. We can't have all of our Angiola guests here in Italy, now, can we?"

A twisted divide-and-conquer. Which meant one thing.

"I'm the only one at the castle, aren't I?"

"Right you are, my dear."

Your eyes widened.

"Really, they're okay," Lussuria assured you as he stepped closer to you. Something metallic glinted in the light. You tensed, expecting a knife. It was just a key. "We have another castle in France. They'll remain there for now."

"Why?" you asked.

"Well, Whisper-chan, it's because Xanxus only wanted you!"

"Xanxus?"

There was a tiny _click!_ Your shackles fell away, releasing you.

"You'll learn to love him."

You raked your brain for any remembrance of that name. It wasn't familiar. But it made your heart squeeze slightly in terror.

Now that he was so close to you, you realized that Lussuria wasn't as scary as he had first seemed. He was rather ostentatious in his choice of dress but he didn't make your pulse quicken.

You had to remind yourself. He was a Varia assassin.

But was he really?

"Actually, you might not like him. But underneath all that gruffness, he's a teddy bear!" he cooed.

Your smile came back, full-force.

He extended a hand. You grasped it, using it to hoist yourself to your feet. You took all of three steps before sinking to the ground, your legs trembling with effort and numbness.

"Tsk, it's going to take a while before your legs get back the blood flow. You won't be able to walk like this." His face lit up. "Do you mind if I carry you, Whisper-chan?"

"You don't have to—whoa!" No sooner had you protested, Lussuria had whisked you into his arms, and he carried you like you were some overgrown baby.

"Put me down." You tried to beat his chest. Your hands, traitorous things, lay at your sides uselessly.

His grin was far too cordial. "Time to meet the rest of the family," he said.

And with that said, Lussuria flounced forward.

* * *

**LCIH: **Hope you enjoyed the second chapter! Feel free to leave a review~! Until next time, my lovelies~! *blows kiss*


	3. Delicacy & Manipulations

You never imaged such a castle.

There were only two words to describe it.

_Fucking gigantic._

Honestly, you couldn't describe it any other way.

Nestled high up in the mountains, it was hidden behind the full, leafy trees of the forest surrounding it on all sides. From a distance, the castle would be very hard to spot, unless one looked quite closely. The intricate style and the color of the castle helped to blend it in with the mountain, making it look as though it was just part of the breath-taking scenery.

You didn't get enough time to admire its beauty. Lussuria, still insisting on carrying you like you had no clue how to walk, skipped inside through a hidden entrance.

Even the interior was grand. Plush red carpeting lined the marble floors. Posh pieces of artwork hung on the walls. There were columns of limestone and marble everywhere, and to the right, you saw a thick staircase winding up. It seemed to go on forever. It probably touched the sky.

There was so much space, but not many people.

True to Lussuria's word, there was not a single Angiola to be found.

"Home, sweet home," sang the green-haired male as he walked further into the castle. You swayed gently in his arms. Most girls your age would love to be carried against such a muscular chest—underneath his shirt, he was _really _built—but he was the enemy and you weren't like most girls.

"I can walk now," you said.

"But, Whisper-chan!"

"Please put me down, or I will bash your head in." You'd do it, too. When he gazed down at you, you added sweetly, "Luss, please."

That did the trick. He smiled. "Well, okay. Since you asked so nicely." He lowered you from his arms, and you balanced your weight onto your feet cautiously. If you went down again, he would carry you, no questions asked.

You stood up perfectly straight, and you tried to ignore the throbbing in both your feet. They were still numb from the flight. Even when you gave Lussuria a look that hopefully showed you were fine, he reached over and hooked his arm with yours.

You suppressed a sigh.

"So, when do I get to meet the other Varia members?"

"Hmmm." Lussuria cocked his head. He wrinkled his brow, staring hard at the painting of a stern-looking man like he had a personal grudge. "They were all here earlier…I wonder where they could have gone."

He raised his voice to call for them. "Mama Luss is home! And I've brought Whisper-chan! Come say hi!"

_Mama Luss? He calls himself Mama Luss? _ Unable to help yourself, you raised both of your eyebrows.

When no one came barreling down the stairs or dashing from the hallways, Lussuria turned back to you. "Guess no one's home," he said cheerfully. "In that case, it's time for you to meet Xanxus!"

The mention of that name made your mouth run dry. Sand seemed to be crusted to your tongue.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Tried not to panic. Knowing that you were the only Angiola here was not helping you. "He's the Boss, right?" you asked casually, as Lussuria began tugging you toward the stairs.

"Technically, yes. Yes, he is!"

"Then I want to speak with him."

The walk up the stairs took eternities. You almost gave up halfway there. Lussuria cheered you on, and when you glared at him, he threatened to carry you the rest of the way. _That_ got you up the stairs in record time.

You spent the next five seconds paying for your decision to sprint. Your legs shook with exhaustion. They felt like fucking blocks of lead.

It wasn't that you were out of shape, and you had to remind yourself that. No, you were still one of Angiola's most fit agents.

Even so, it was rather embarrassing, to be so out of breath in front of a Varia member.

As if he could read your thoughts, Lussuria pursed his lips to the side in worry, and he said, "Whisper-chan, dear, are you sure you don't want to get some rest first? Or maybe take a shower? Change into some clean clothes?"

It couldn't be that bad. You wore a florescent blue tank top over a silver miniskirt. Hey, you _had _been dragged from your house right after lunch!

"No offense, but you look like you're homeless."

Ouch. How cruel. You were being called homeless by the man with green hair and outrageous orange fur on his hood. What has the world come to?

"No, no." You shook your head firmly. "I want to meet this boss of yours. Xanxus, was it?" You gritted your teeth and smiled. "There are a few things I need to question him about."

"Okay…" Lussuria motioned for you to follow him and then started off down the corridor. You padded after him, your steps light and quick despite your fatigue. All Angiola knew how to glide like freaking ghosts over the loudest of floors, and the soft carpeting underneath your heels only helped you.

The two of you walked past countless doors. There were even little breaks in the corridor where it branched off into other corridors, making it all seem like one giant labyrinth. You could easily get lost in the castle.

You were so busy examining the layout of the corridor that you didn't realize Lussuria had stopped walking. You ran into him, bumping your nose hard on his shoulder.

"Augh," you muttered, and you gingerly rubbed your nose. With your luck, it would be bleeding in a few moments.

"We're here," Lussuria sang. He pointed to the heavy wood door in front of him. It was simple and plain. In bold face, **XANXUS** had been engraved. You blinked, and it seemed to shimmer with some inner light.

"Oh, I have a feeling he'll just _love_ you!" Lussuria said encouragingly. He squeezed your shoulder. Yes, he was the enemy, but with every passing minute, he was becoming an older brother figure.

"I hope so," you said, your voice soft.

Lussuria's smile only widened. He grasped the gold doorknob and twisted. You looked down at your clothes. You quickly ran your hands over your shirt, smoothing out any possible wrinkles, brushing off any dirt.

You didn't know what kind of man you were expecting to be behind the door, but you hoped you would be able to manipulate him into getting your way. If you were going to be the only prisoner, it would do you good to have some power over the Varia Boss.

Of course, as fate would have it, the man behind that door could not be manipulated.


	4. Well, Shit

**LCIH: **Thanks for all of the followers, you guys! I'm ecstatic to see that many of you are enjoying this. That makes me happy, gosh~!

**LCIH: **So here's a little rambling on my part. I got an idea like this a few weeks ago, in a dream. Wouldn't you know it? Varia had declared a rebellion on Vongola, and they had claimed my house as their new secret base. In the dream, I walked out of the shower (clad in only a dripping towel, might I add) to find Xanxus smirking sexily and Bel's cool knife blade sliding up my thigh.

**LCIH: **Haha! Anyway, enough from me. I'll let you get to the story~!

* * *

Two things happened.

First, there was someone inside of Xanxus's office who was rather noisy, and he seemed to have screamed every single word that fell from his mouth. He was ranting when you and Lussuria walked into the room. You couldn't see who it was; Lussuria towered over you, his bulk obscuring your vision.

"VOOOOOOIII!" he shrieked. "I don't understand, you fuckin' IDIOT, why the hell you just—"

That was the boss, wasn't it? A smirk flitted over your lips. This would be easy. If the Varia Boss got so heated over every little thing, as he was now, then manipulating him would be a cinch.

And then the second thing happened. Lussuria shot a hand out, grabbed your waist, and hit the floor, all in the smooth grace of an assassin. You tumbled after him, and you landed hard on your ass.

Something smashed into the wall behind you. It shattered loudly.

A crystal wine glass had been thrown at your head. _At your freaking head._

You were on your feet in a flash, glaring at the boss. Who did he think he was? And why the hell was he throwing wine glasses around? Someone could get seriously injured…

That's when you noticed that there were four people in the room, including yourself and Lussuria.

A raging, pissed, homicidal-looking man with long silver hair, a sword dangling near his hip, and another man sitting in a gold-backed throne-like chair, one foot crossed over the other at the knee.

The silverette had red wine running down his face. Little shards of glass were stuck to his hair.

There was a tense silence. It was uncomfortable and thick. You just stood there, waiting for one of the men to move. Was another glass just going to materialize out of thin air and hurl itself at you? Probably.

Then, Lussuria clucked his tongue. "Xanxus, Xanxus," he sighed, with a few shakes of his head. "How many times do I have to remind you not to throw glass around?"

The silverette tensed up when he heard Lussuria speak, but he didn't say anything. Hadn't he just been spoken to? Wasn't he going to answer?

You watched him, expecting a reaction, but it was the other man who replied.

"Shut up, trash. Watch what you tell people." He never once took his eyes off the silverette, and now he spoke directly to him. "You. Out."

"I'm not finished with you," the man growled.

_"Out."_ The sitting man's, whom you could only assume was Xanxus, tone was final.

"VOOOOOOOOOOIIIIII! FINE!" He whirled around, and he saw you. Something close to a sneer passed over his angular face. "You're the Angiola leader, right? TOO BAD FOR YOU. We've completely DESTROYED your pathetic little family." He barked in harsh laughter. "They never stood a CHANCE!"

Anger flared in your chest. You swallowed it down. Gave the silverette a cool look. Pressed your lips together, refusing to say anything. He was looking for a fight, but he wasn't going to get one. Yet.

"Run along, Squ," Lussuria said.

The silverette switched his glare to the flamboyant one behind you, but he slunk out of the room, slamming the door rather childishly.

Another moment of silence.

You flicked your eyes over to where Xanxus sat. Somehow, he'd gotten another wine glass and it swung between his fingers. He was drinking red wine.

Slowly, he lifted it to his lips. Took a long sip. The wine stained his mouth.

He raised his eyes, fixing them onto yours, staring straight at you with red, unnerving irises.

His gaze was incredibly molten. You normally didn't get intimidated with just a person's eyes—throughout the course of the years as an Angiola member, you had seen many different types of eyes—but there was something about Xanxus's that just…

His lips twitched upward. "Angiola scum."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Varia bastard."

"Now, now. Be nice, both of you." Lussuria, always the peacemaker, jumped in to make introductions, if not to stop you from killing him. "Xanxus, this is Whisper-chan of the Angiola. Whisper-chan, this is Xanxus, boss of us Varia."

"Nice to meet you," you said dryly.

You hadn't expected him to answer, and you were not surprised when he didn't, swallowing some more red wine instead.

"So." When you had been walking through hell up the stairs, there had been a thousand things you wanted to say to Xanxus. They were all along the lines of demanding where your family was, why he had rebelled against the Vongola, and what was up with the endless corridors.

But now that you were finally in his presence, all those thoughts evaporated like fog.

"So," you said again, fishing about for something to break the silence. "Nice, uh, feathers." Was he wearing road kill or what?

Judging by the way his face clouded over, it was not a smart thing to say. His stony stare turned into an outright glare.

You coughed into your fist, uncomfortable. "Um. Well."

"My, my," Lussuria murmured, "this is awkward." He was right.

Xanxus continued looking at you for another moment or two. Your heart stuttered underneath his hot gaze. The feeling was perfidious and terrible. You almost cringed when it skipped a beat. _What the hell, you stupid heart?_

And then he turned toward Lussuria, his face void of any emotion other than mild irritation. "Where are the rest of my useless subordinates?" he asked. "It's too quiet."

Lussuria opened his mouth to speak.

You cut in before he could say anything. "Just a minute."

Both men faced you.

You took a step forward, skirting around Lussuria's bulk. Advanced toward Xanxus in a slow, predatory-like way. "You can't just ignore me like that." You weren't some wall flower. What was his problem?

"You had Varia rebel against the Vongola, and then you took over Angiola? First of all, I thought you and Vongola were good allies—"

"I am not allies with them," he spat.

You kept on, as thought you hadn't been interrupted. "—and then you have me come here as prisoner, with the rest of my family at your other stupid castle in France? Why would you split us up? You won't gain anything from it."

"You're too fucking loud—" he started.

"Why am I the only one here?" You were a mere foot away from Xanxus. "What do you _want _with me?"

His eyes were bottomless. Soul-stealing.

His wine glass was sharp and painful when it shattered against your cheek.

You stumbled back. Glass caught your cheek, ripped the skin, drew blood. It dripped down slowly. Warm. Sticky.

The smirk on Xanxus's face was maddeningly arrogant. "Don't come near me, trash."

Before you could strangle him, he waved a hand at you, said to Lussuria, "Take her out of my sight. Lock her in a room."

"Lock me?!" You thrashed in Lussuria's grip. Damn, the man was strong. "You can't just throw me in a room and lock me away like some fairy tale princess—"

"But I can."

His smirk widened.

"And I will."

Lussuria picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, like you were some limp doll. He strode out of the room.

On the way to the door, you tried to shot lightening bolts from your eyes at the bastard sitting in his gold-backed throne. He held another wine glass in his hand.

_God DAMN him! _You mouthed a word at him, accompanying it with an equally rude hand gesture.

You shrieked and ducked as the wine glass sailed toward you. It crashed against the back of Lussuria's trench coat; the man didn't even feel it.

And Xanxus had yet _another_ wine glass dangling from his fingers.


	5. Two-Faced

It had to be one of these three reasons: he was an absolutely paranoid control freak, he liked to display and enforce his superiority over others, or he was just a plain pervert.

It was likely the latter.

You didn't know how many camera lenses you had found as you searched the room. You'd lost count around twenty. The pile was ever-growing.

They were placed in the weirdest places, too. The pillows. Mounted against the windows. Even in the knobs of the elaborate wooden dresser.

You had not been amused to find one hovering above the toilet.

_Ugh. Peeping Tom, much?_

You couldn't rip the mechanical eyes out. So instead, you smeared them all with conditioner. Strawberry scented. You didn't really like strawberries. You weren't sad to see the conditioner go; there were plenty of others by the tub.

You had finished sabotaging the security cameras. Now you sat on the edge of the bed. You allowed yourself to really take a look at your "cell."

It wasn't a typical confinement room. Not exactly. If you ignored the parts about the door being locked and the cameras everywhere—now that you thought about it, your room was probably wired. You'd have to watch what you said—then it was more a suite.

Queen-sized bed. Fluffy covers. A walk-in closet, full of clothes ranging from dresses to workout outfits to lingerie to Varia uniforms. A master bathroom. A picturesque view from the window.

It was still too eerily quiet.

A famous assassin family, one that was stupid enough to rebel against the Vongola, and strong enough to capture Angiola, shouldn't be so quiet.

And yet it was.

All of a sudden, the majestic room was too small. Suffocating. It was suffocating you. The walls were moving in, pressing around you. Squeezing…

—_water rushed into your lungs. You gasped, knowing you weren't supposed to, and the water kept pouring into your mouth. An endless stream. No beginning, no end. Just water, eternal and forever._

_Shuddering, you started to choke_—

You blinked.

"Oh, my."

Where had _that_ come from?

Right out of the blue, it seemed. You had never drowned. Not that you could remember.

Why drowning, of all things?

"Stop thinking about it," you scolded yourself quickly, before your mind could wander. "Focus instead on how you can get the hell out of here."

Back on task.

You had already searched the room for electronics. A laptop. A net book. Something. If you had access to an electronic, you could override their system. You could rewire the entire thing. You could hack into the other electronics and cause a malfunction.

But there was no electronic for you to use. You missed your laptop. It was in your home, in Japan. Sitting on the counter, next to the platter of a half-eaten bagel. By now, the batteries had most likely died.

There was a chance that you could talk Lussuria into giving you another one. Right now, he was your only ally in the entire castle. And you had only met two other people.

Things were not going in your favor.

Your laptop wasn't all that you missed.

You missed your Angiola family. You missed your comfortable clothes. You missed the sweet-natured Tsuna.

Most of all, you missed _him._

Escape routes.

Focus.

You had taken a look at your balcony. Maybe you could climb down the wall. It was a long way to bottom—if you had to guess, you were seven stories above ground. The landing wouldn't be pretty.

Of course, your balcony doors were locked, too.

You sighed. This was hopeless. It wasn't locked with a key. You couldn't pick the lock. A shame, for you were rather skilled in lock-jiggling, as you called it.

You flopped back onto the silky bedspread.

It just didn't make any _sense._

How could your family have been captured? By a phantom-like assassin family with a wine-crazed psychopath for their boss?

That sense of guilt pricked at your gut again. You shut your eyes.

Had you not been infatuated with Vongola's Rain Guardian, you would have been able to defend your family. To keep this all from happening…

_"We Vongola will be waiting for the angel's whisper. Return safely_, Sussurrare_._"

Something cold trickled over your fingers. Lingering. Fleeting.

You opened your eyes in time to see the last of mist tendrils caressing your right hand.

The mist dispersed.

Left behind was a tiny ring on your pinky. A band of pure bronze. Set with sparkling sapphire stones in a circle.

The sapphires were the Rain's jewel seal. The bronze, Sky's.

More specifically, it was Vongola's.

Yamamoto Takeshi's. Tsuna's.

Silky laughter purred in the back of your mind. You knew that ridiculous laughter. No one else laughed with such an amount of _fu's_.

You had never really warmed up to him, but at that moment, you were grateful.

You smiled.

"Thanks for the gift, Mukuro."

_Kufufufu~_

You jumped up and ran over to the thick wooden dresser. You quickly rummaged through the contents before finding what you were looking for: a sleek silver chain.

You slipped the ring off, fastening it to the chain. Then you clasped it around your neck.

The metal was cool against your breast. It was slightly heavy. You could feel your heartbeat against it.

But the weight was strangely familiar.

And now, it all made sense. The ring, the absence of the Angiola, the capture.

You were to spy on the Varia.

For the Vongola family.

You held back a vicious chuckle as a thrill ripped through your body, sizzling your veins. Replacing the blood with a newfound sense of determination. Of deviousness.

Whenever the time arose, an angel could easily become a two-faced demon.

The time had risen for you to do so.


	6. Caramel Catnip

You spent the rest of the evening locked up in your suite-prison. You couldn't get out even if you tried—which you had attempted to do, multiple times. Eventually you had given up.

You sat perched on the edge of the bed for a good hour or two, thinking. Just thinking. You toyed with the ring as you thought, slipping it on and off your pinky finger.

The Vongola were asking you to spy on Varia. They were asking for a double agent.

You weren't sure if you _could _be a double agent in this particular scenario.

If Xanxus or one of his unseen henchmen found out…

You'd be killed, no doubt.

It wasn't like you hadn't been a double agent before. In fact, you were known for your two-faced specialty. Most of your fellow Angiola members called you an angel. The word was used darkly.

An angel's whisper could be misleading.

"Well, fuck, Decimo," you growled. "You're asking for my life here."

You pushed all thoughts of the impossible-but-possible task aside. And thought back to your encounter with Xanxus.

What _was_ his problem, anyhow? Was throwing wine glasses at people's faces his hobby?

Right off the bat, he had come across as a terrible person. Nasty. Easily irritated. Pissy. Moody. Sullen.

He was everything you had imagined the Varia boss to be.

But his eyes were enigmatic.

They were the exact same hue of red wine.

Fire.

Smoldering, eternal flames.

You had gotten lost in them.

Thinking of his gaze alone made your hair stand on edge. A shiver racked your spine.

Ugh, his gaze was much too _intense_ and you didn't like it one bit.

He never did answer your question.

_"What do you_ want _with me?"_

Your fingers closed around the ring, and you fisted it in anger. You whipped your head around. Glared at the metallic eye peeking out from being the painting over your bed. The one covered in strawberry conditioner.

"You're a bastard, Xanxus. You know that? Piss off."

Where were his stupid wine glasses now?

Unable to help yourself, you stuck your tongue out childishly.

After that, you headed into the master shower and washed away all the ick of the previous hours. The hot water felt so good against your skin. You almost forgot your situation as you stood underneath the showerhead, eyes closed in pleasure.

And you almost didn't see the camera lens next to it.

Key word: almost.

"PERVERT!?"

You didn't really want to wear any of the fancy clothes—they were Varia property, after all. But your initial outfit was stiff with dust from the plane ride and it stunk like garbage. So you tossed it aside. Chose a simple apparel of a silk black tank top and thigh-hugging gold jeans.

There was a stash of caramel candy bars behind the mirror.

A peace offering? No, it was probably food left over from the last prisoner.

Either way, the chocolate looked good…

You crammed five chunks into your mouth.

And then you conked out cold on the fluffy bed.

You were beat from the day's activities, and the warm blankets were like heaven.

You slept a dreamless slumber.

Some time later, you were jolted awake. You glanced at the clock through crusty eyes.

No matter how friendly he was, Lussuria was a frightening character to have standing near the foot of your bed at three in the morning.

His smile was humongous. It gleamed. "I was just about to wake you, Whisper-chan!" he said.

"Were you, now?" you croaked.

Even in the dark, you could make out each individual tooth to his ear-splitting grin. "You really didn't think you would be able to attack me with such a tiny pillow, did you?"

"Of course not." You slowly let the pillow fall.

Then you propped yourself up on an elbow, breathing in slowly for your body to relax. You'd tensed into a half crouch out of reflex.

"Why are you in my room?" you demanded. The look you gave him would've been more threatening, had you not still been half-asleep. "Do you like watching me sleep or what?"

"Well, you were quite cute, yes," he agreed wolfishly.

You furrowed your brow. "Spill."

Lussuria bent forward, grasped the blankets, and tugged them away from you. "You've been sleeping for oh so long! Rise and shine, Whisper-chan!"

"Go away," you said flatly. "You're a dick."

He took it in stride. "Yes, I have one."

"I would hope so. Luss, why are you in here?"

"Don't you want anything to eat? You must be starving. And now's a chance for you to meet some more of the family?"

"Yours or mine?"

"They'll be yours, too, from now on."

No way were you thinking of your captors as family. Even if Lussuria did seem like a gay older brother. And Xanxus, the uncle who was off his rocker.

"At three in the morning?" You slowly sat up.

Lussuria didn't answer; he only smiled and offered you a hand.

"I can get out of bed myself."

"Chivalry, haven't you heard?"

"Nothing you do at this point is chivalrous, Luss."

He pouted. "But, the chocolate!"

"Oh, that was you? It was delicious. Thanks."

"Mmm-hmm."

As you staggered up from the mattress, you reached out and groped around blindly in the dark. The ring sat on the bedside bureau. You managed to snag your fingers in the chain without it clinking; the Sun Guardian didn't notice.

You weren't sure what you would do yet with it. Was it a microphone? A camera? Or just a ring, to remind you of your powerful ally and you comrades, two of the sweetest men you had ever known?

You knew one thing: Varia couldn't know about it.

"Ready to meet the family, Whisper-chan?"

"You said that last time."

He ignored the accusation. "Come, come!"

You sighed. "Sure, Mama Luss." Somehow, he didn't blush under your patronizing glance. "I want to meet this nonexistent family of mine."


	7. That Family You've Been Hearing About?

It was chaos.

News of your arrival had swept through the Varia castle. As you descended down the scores of miles of stairs, you could hear the clinking of silverware and the low rumblings of laughter.

Uncertain, you cast a glance at the flamboyant assassin behind you.

"Don't be frightened, dear," he said reassuringly. "They're all about as harmless as lions with splinters in their paws."

"I feel a tiny bit better now, thanks."

Standard to agent protocols, you should have been memorizing the lefts and rights you were directed to take. If memorized precisely, it would come in handy for an escape.

But a buzzing had settled in your gut. Anxiety. How strange. You weren't one prone to such.

And then you found yourself in a large dining hall.

It was as grand as the rest of the castle, with an ostentatious table right down the middle that seemed to stretch on forever and ever. Dishes of rich, mouth-watering food were set out on the table top. Your stomach growled in agreement as you eyed pastry after tempting pastry.

The table could easily seat an army of forty, maybe even more. But there was evidence of only four people seated.

Before you could distinguish exactly who you would be dealing with, you were greeted with an aggravatingly familiar shout of, "VOOOOOOOIIII!"

You cringed. The boisterous silverette. Great.

You barely had time to regain your lost sense of hearing before the man was up in your face.

"Couldn't keep away, huh, Angiola leader?" he sneered. "Actually, I'm surprised to see you still around. SCUM LIKE YOU SHOULD JUST DISAPPEAR." The cuts from the wine glass that had been tossed at his face had miraculously healed.

You pressed your lips together. "Can you stop squawking in my ear?"

"I'M NOT SQUAWKING—"

"And for your information, I'm not the Angiola leader."

The man broke off, his steel-blue eyes widening in surprise. He processed the information for a moment. His brows furrowed in thought.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Well?"

Lussuria interjected for an introduction. "This is Whisper-chan," he said. "Whisper-chan, this is Squ."

The silverette turned on him. "VOOOOOOIII! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT! IT'S SQUALO, NOT SQU! SQU_ALO_!"

Luckily, you had clapped your hands to your ears in time. You pressed a palm to Squalo's chest and shoved him backward. "You're a little too close," you explained when he glared. "It's kind of creepy." You skirted around him.

"Feh," he spat. He looked like he wanted to say more. You didn't want to hear it.

There was a bulky man with crazy sideburns and a thin mustache sitting at the table, gnawing away at a drumstick.

"Levi, you shouldn't eat with both hands like that, how disastrous," Lussuria scolded him. Like a mother hen to her babies, he clucked his tongue.

The man just grunted, "This is the way Boss eats, and so I shall eat this way also."

"You're a try-hard, Leviathan," Squalo shot, his upper lip curling.

"It's all for the Boss!" Leviathan responded with passion.

"Do tell me," you sniped, "are you harboring any naughty feelings for this Boss of yours'?"

Leviathan chewed on the mush pile of chicken for a moment, looking thoughtful. You watched as outrage slowly filtered into his face, angle by angle, line by line. "Are you implying something?" he demanded, lumbering to his feet.

"Only if you believe I am."

"Why, you-!"

"Hold up, Levi. You can't kill her. She hasn't paid the entrance fee yet."

The high, ominous, childlike voice was drifting up from somewhere behind you, but only Squalo and Lussuria stood there. You looked around for a moment, confused.

Your fingers brushed the side of your thigh. A distortion in the atmosphere came into focus. You could see a pocket of space and time where the speaker was hiding.

Your ring had broken and revealed the truth of a Mist illusion. _Wow. What other powers does it hold? Maybe one that will deflect and rebound wine glasses, perhaps?_

"You aren't wearing the proper Varia outfit," continued the voice. The rough outline of a baby shimmered, then materialized. "Therefore, you owe me a deposit of, oh, fifty-thousand yen."

"I don't carry that kind of money with me!"

The baby, an Arcobaleno, wore a black hood which concealed his face, save for two identical purple marks on either cheek. He held out a tiny hand. "Either fix your clothes or hand over the money."

"What is this, I don't even—," you started.

"I anticipated this would happen, so I brought a tie with me. And lucky you, it's the perfect shade of gold! It totally matches your jeans, Whisper-chan!" Lussuria looped a gold silk tie around your neck, threading and manipulating the two slips until they had been knotted together. He beamed.

You turned the corner of one mouth for a grateful smile. Then you turned back to the baby. "And you are…?"

"Mammon, if you must know. That will be an extra twenty-thousand yen."

"Oh, stop it, Mammon," said Lussuria. Leviathan was quiet as he continued eating. Squalo had already retaken his seat and he was munching on a strawberry tart. It stained his mouth red. It reminded you of wine. Red wine.

Upon seeing such delicious food within your reach, your stomach grumbled angrily. You were ravenous. You so wanted to dig in to that plump Turkey—the cooked bird was practically calling to you.

But you had no intention of eating now if Xanxus decided to show up. You didn't want to deal with his moodiness. And while none of the Varia had noticed it yet, Xanxus might just be the one to see the ring tucked into your pocket…

You were turning toward Lussuria to ask him whether Xanxus was joining in or not when you suddenly froze.

_What's with this deadly aura?_

Something impossibly cold slithered up your leg.

It rounded the calf, traced the quivering muscle of your thigh, and then curved over your hip. It, whatever it was, caught the hem of your tank top and lifted the material away from your skin. Exposed you to the bite of the air.

You almost cried out when it was pressed against the flat of your stomach.

Ice. Frost. Fire. Sharp.

_Slice._

Blood, accompanied with the most unbearable heat, blossomed in a thin line on your stomach.

Your reflexes were back up in no time, and you leapt backward, away from the object. You held your palm to the wound, knowing your eyes were wide with shock. The warm, sticky blood pooled onto your hand, slipped between your fingers and spattered the marble floor below.

In front of you stood a man about your age, with long blonde hair that fell past his eyes and a crazy smile that spelled trouble.

A knife was gripped loosely in one hand. Dark blood dripped from the gleaming blade.

"Ushishishi."

His snicker sent wild shudders up your spine.

You stumbled back a step, keeping your hand on your wound. Your fingers brushed the cool object in your pocket; the flesh of your stomach began to knit itself together, ever so slowly. "You…cut me…"

His grin grew.

"VOOOOOOIII! YOU'RE LATE, BEL!" Squalo.

"You weren't stealing from my secret account, were you, Bel-senpai?" Mammon.

"…" Leviathan.

"Now, now, that wasn't necessary, Bel…" Lussuria.

"Why did you cut me?" you asked. It was hard to keep the hysteria out from your voice. It was even harder to maintain the neutrality. Of course someone had found out about your true objective. They knew you were a double-agent. He was going to take you life…

"Hmmm. Why did I cut you?" the blonde repeated.

He tilted his head to the side.

"That's easy. Because I'm a prince."

Your jaw slackened. That was hardly an answer. Who did he think he was?

"Belphegor," he replied, as if he had heard your thoughts. He gave you another malevolent smile. Then he took a seat at the table and, very calmly, reached for the bowl of Japanese-styled sushi.

Oh, good Lord. _These_ were the assassins who had kidnapped you and were now holding you away from the rest of your family?

Even someone of your caliber would not last long as a double agent here.

You were, for a lack of better words, royally screwed.


	8. Water & Satin

—_You hit the ocean floor hard. The air was practically knocked out of your lungs upon impact. A jagged rock caught your back, drew a little blood. You managed not to gasp in pain, and you rolled onto your stomach. The sand grinded beneath you as you rolled. It cradles your body perfectly._

_The sand was cool and comforting on your skin, and you wanted to lay there forever. Unfortunately, you can't. Tiny bubbles of oxygen leaked from your mouth, despite your lips being sealed tightly. Every second was precious._

_You needed to move. Now._

_You craned your neck up. There are lights at the surface of the water. Lights so unlike the sun. Lights that don't reach down into the depths of the ocean. Lights visible only when seen above the water._

_The surface is so far from where you currently are, at the bottom of the ocean. The swim upward will be tiring, no doubt._

_You are on a time crunch._

_You summoned all of your strength. And you prayed to God that you would have enough air to get you to the top. Steeling yourself against the worst, you pushed off from the ocean floor. Sand blossomed around your soles as you begin swimming._

_For what seemed like an eternity, everything was fine. You focused only one pulling one arm in front of you, slicing the water ahead. You focused on maintaining proper kicking. _

_The surface never came closer, even as you swam your hardest._

_More bubbles broke through the barrier of your lips. There was a faint crushing sensation deep within your chest. You tried to ignore it, but as you continued swimming, the sensation manifested into a buzzing sort of pain._

_Slowly, ever so slowly, the surface came closer. The light became brighter._

_The pain became sharper._

_Your limbs felt as though they were made of lead. You couldn't move anymore. It hurt to pull your arm forward. It hurt to slice the water ahead. It hurt to kick. It even hurt to keep your eyes open. _

_You knew you couldn't stop moving, and you tried not to give into closing your eyes, into giving up entirely._

_Closer…_

_Closer…_

_That's when a spasm ripped through your left leg._

_It was like having a knife tipped with electricity plunged right into your muscle. It seemed to have shredded your skin, exposing all the tendons and ligaments underneath to the salt water. The spasm was so intense; you opened your mouth to cry out_—

_Water rushed into your lungs. You gasped, knowing you weren't supposed to, and the water kept pouring in, an endless stream. No beginning, no end. Just water, eternal and forever._

_Shuddering, you started to choke_—

There was a knock at your door.

You were jolted out from your slumber, and you stared, wide-eyed, at the door. Weakly, you pressed a hand to your chest. There wasn't any water. You were in your suite-like prison. Present day. Location, Varia Castle.

There wasn't any water. You had to reassure yourself twice.

The knocks continued, sharp and impatient.

"Whisper-chan!" The voice belonged to Lussuria. "Whisper-chan, are you asleep? Please wake up!"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer him. With shaky limbs, you got out of bed. The last thing you remembered doing was meeting the freaky assassins of Varia, eating with them, and then falling on top of your fluffy bed for a decade-long nap.

_What_ was with that dream? It was there each time you closed your eyes. You were drowning. Water sucked at your body. It filled your mouth. You kept choking…

"I must be going crazy," you muttered, scrubbing a hand through your unkempt bed hair. "I blame the Varia and their craziness." You reluctantly dismissed the dream, knowing it would reappear the second you closed your eyes again.

"Whisper-chan!" Knock. "Listen up!" Knock, knock. "Boss has requested that you head to his office now. He wants to talk to you." Knock, knock. "Whisper-chan, please wake up! I'll give you five minutes. Then I'm coming inside!"

You didn't like the threatening edge to his voice. "All right, all right, I heard you," you shout in response. Your voice is raspy.

When he had said "Boss," he could only be referring to one person. Xanxus.

Oh, joy. Because the person you really needed to see and converse with was him.

The guy wasn't much of a talker.

And he threw _glasses_ at people. Seriously?

You stumbled over to the bathroom, and quickly splashed water into your face before heading toward the gigantic walk-in closet. There was a cute black mini dress hanging near the shoes, and you knew it would look perfect with your (h/c) hair if you could just curl it. Of course, you didn't have the time.

It was kind of funny: here you were, trapped in the enemy's castle with the boss requesting your presence, and you were worrying about what to wear.

But wasn't a dress a little too much to wear for Xanxus?

"Ah, screw it," you said, yanking the dress from its hanger. "I've got this closet full of beautiful clothing. I might as well dress sexy."

You quickly pulled it on, remembering Lussuria's time limit warning. You were about to join the assassin outside when you recalled the Arcobaleno Mammon's words from last night. He had spoken about you not wearing the proper Varia outfit, whatever that was. But he had seemed somewhat satisfied when you were given a tie from Lussuria.

You doubted there would be a stock of ties in the closet, seeing as it _was_ full of ladies' clothes, and women normally didn't wear ties.

You sweat-dropped upon seeing the glorious array of ties.

"…damn."

"Five minutes is up, Whisper-chan! Ready or not, here I come!"

"Damn!" You scanned the colors, quickly deciding to go with plain white tie. You looped it around your neck, not bothering to tie it properly as you rushed out of the closet. You couldn't resist grabbing pretty white stilettos as you exited the closet.

Lussuria stood at your doorway, his face in a pinched mask of annoyance. "Whisper-chan," he started, and then he saw your outfit. His expression melted into one of absolute awe. "Your outfit looks super cute! And that dress! It fits you perfectly! Why, it highlights all your curves and really shows off those mile-long legs of yours."

You smiled a little helplessly. "Thanks, Luss."

"The white tie was a nice touch…oh! Boss is waiting!" Lussuria shook off his opinions of your attire and took hold of your hand. "Come on, it's not best to anger him. He's been waiting for a while now, you know. He graciously allowed you to sleep these last few hours, but his patience has worn thin."

"He has patience? Amazing," you deadpanned.

"Oh, hush."

He half-pulled, half-dragged you out of your room and out into the corridor.

Again, you knew you should have been memorizing the rights and lefts he led you through, but his endless chatter distracted you. So did the task of keeping up with his fast pace in heels. You should have reminded yourself that you hadn't worn heels since joining Angiola.

You wondered what Xanxus could possibly want to talk to you about. You didn't really want to have to do anything with the moody, red-eyed bastard of a boss. He was as scary as hell.

"Hoo, boy," you murmured under your breath.

And that dream of yours…

Was there a coincidence of some kind?

Oh, shoot. You had left your ring back in your room. It was sitting in a drawer of your dresser. Without it, you didn't feel secure, but there was no possible way you could have hidden it with your outfit. Unless you stuck it in your bra.

Hopefully, nothing too terrible would happen. You had yet to discover the power of the ring, given to you from the Vongola. If the time came for you to use your ring, you wouldn't be able to.

You would just have to make do without it.


	9. Fire Flowing, Burning, Scorching

Xanxus's office looked the same as before: plush red carpeting, a black leather sofa off to one side, an elaborate, large desk set right in front of two arched, floor-to-ceiling windows, and the golden-backed throne-like chair. Overall, it was a very grand room, despite the scarce amount of furniture.

Considering that it was near midday, sunlight streamed through the window panes. It struck you square in the face when you stepped inside. You squinted against the harsh light, a hand held over your eyes.

The light had the strange effect of making Xanxus appear as a smudged mark of shadow.

"Scum, you're awake?" It wasn't a question; it was more of an accusation.

"It's either that, or I'm sleep-waking. Take your pick." Your voice was laden with sarcasm.

A pair of red irises glinted. "Took you long enough."

You opened your mouth for another snarky reply. Behind you, Lussuria chuckled in amusement. "Behave, you two. Honestly…"

The red eyes shifted so that they were staring at a point over your shoulder, at the Sun Guardian.

You could almost hear Lussuria's defeat. "I'll be outside if you need me, Whisper-chan," he sighed, backing into the corridor. The door was pulled shut.

A moment of heavy silence ensued.

Unsure what to say, you focused on regaining your vision. The light is too fucking bright. You're being blinded. "Um, can you do something about your windows?" you finally asked, both hands slapped over your eyes. "I can't see anything."

The shadow with the red eyes—Xanxus—didn't move, but the room was blanketed with darkness in mere seconds.

The darkness wasn't any better, and you sighed. It took you another long minute for your eyes to adjust. "Thanks," you said dryly. "Much better."

He only grunted, and a small flame flickered to life, offering a little light in the shadows. It emitted from the palm of his right hand. You made a mental note of the luminance.

"So. You wanted to talk to me about something?" You quickly surveyed the shaded room. Nothing important. He didn't leave anything interesting out. What's more, you were pretty sure he would throw a glass at you if you went over to the sofa and took a seat. You would have to be content with standing.

When he didn't answer, you glanced over at him. Xanxus was watching you, his face stony. You didn't like the look in his eyes—you didn't like his eyes, period.

They were _red_.

They reminded you of fire.

They made you shiver.

He obviously wasn't going to talk, and you didn't want to continue standing there like an idiot. So you crossed your arms over your chest and said, "I did a little investigation of my room, and I can't say I'm happy with all the camera lenses I found. Are you secretly a pervert or what?"

"Who do you think I am, scum?"

"You're a bastard and a pervert."

An irritated scowl tugged his lips down. His brows lowered until he was glaring daggers at you. The light from his hand veiled his eyes; another shiver threatened up your spine.

What was up with these weird reactions of yours?

And Xanxus had called you here for a reason. If he wasn't going to get on with it, then why were you wasting your time?

"I've got better things to do," you muttered, throwing your hands up. You fixed him with an angry stare. "Look, are you going to tell me why you called me here or not?"

"…"

With another heavy exhale, you turned, stalked toward the door.

"…you need to toughen up, scum. From now on, you'll be trained by my useless subordinates."

You froze. Slowly turned your head to look at him over one shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

His response was a faint, barely-there smirk. He knew you had heard him.

And you had, although you refused to believe it. You needed to _toughen up_? Was he joking? He hadn't seen you in action yet, but you were one of Angiola's top agents. The training you had been put through was nothing short of brutal. You knew how to hold your own against anything.

And you would be trained by one of his subordinates? That meant the other Guardians you had met at dinner. They were insane. You tolerated only Luss, and even then, you didn't tolerate him.

"Uh-uh. No. No way." You shook your head. "I won't be trained by any of you Varia bastards."

"You have no say in this."

"You can't make me." You were aware that you sounded like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but you would not listen to this weirdo. "Besides, I don't _need _to toughen up. I'm tough enough as it is."

Whereas before Xanxus had found your reaction somewhat bemusing, the smirk was gone from his lips, replaced by a look of absolute annoyance. "You wouldn't last a day."

"Um, for your information, I've been here for a few days now and I've done just fine." You knew that hadn't been what he meant. You hadn't been rushed at by any of the Varia assassins yet. They were all rumored to have outrageous strength. There was even a term for their caliber. _Varia quality._

Vongola was always having trouble with them. If Tsuna and his extraordinary family members couldn't handle them, how could you?

Xanxus didn't respond to your sarcastically obvious reply. You took a few seconds to think, to weigh your options.

On one hand, you didn't want to hurt your pride by accepting Xanxus' demand.

On the other, there was a chance for you to improve. Being taught by a Varia would be beneficial. You might even gain some strength.

Angels could always become more powerful…

And when the time came for you to finally join up with Vongola to take down Varia…

You nodded to yourself.

Your pride would have to be swallowed for the time being.

"Fine," you grumbled, keeping up appearances. "I'll do it."

"Wise choice, scum." The tone of his voice was unmistakably cocky, condescending.

"Are we done here, then? I'm fine with starting the training tomorrow." You turned to leave.

"What class flame?"

You glanced over your shoulder at him again for clarification.

He only leaned his cheek into his palm, cupped the side of his face. Waited for an answer.

Was he asking what your flame was? Damn, you weren't sure what to say. You could lie and tell him you were Sky, but then you risked taking the place of the Angiola Boss. You were sure Xanxus wouldn't hesitate to kill you if he assumed you were the leader.

It wouldn't be smart to tell him your real flame, however. You couldn't afford to give out personal information.

You wouldn't tell him your real class flame, but you wouldn't lie and say you were Sky, either. You opened your mouth, intending to say Rain—

Those _eyes_.

They burned into your face, smothered you, flushed your skin with a sinful heat.

Corrupted, enthralling, riveting.

Fire coursed through your veins.

You couldn't suppress the shiver this time.

Against your will, you whispered, "Storm."

The look in his eyes told you he had known what you'd been planning to do—

"Get out, scum."

His voice awoke you from your daze, and you danced away when he raised a hand, an empty wine glass held between his long fingers.

You ducked out of the room, shutting the door quickly.

The glass shattered against the heavy wood.

Lussuria smiled at you. "Well, how did it go?"

You only gaped at him, eyes wide, your heart pounding.


	10. Blast From the Past

You retired to your room after a lively brunch with Lussuria and Squalo. The two bickered the entire time about, of all things, baldness. Lussuria mentioned something about Squalo losing a lot of hair recently; the silverette was half-irritated, half-horrified.

It was entertaining, to say in the least. As you were escorted back to your room, you found your energy spent. Partially from the walk, but mostly from your conversation earlier. With Xanxus.

You had faced many villains throughout the course of your career as a Mafiosi. Each villain was different than the last. There were some low-key ones. Some were high-strung. There were some who had their dirty work done for them. Others actually did their dirty work themselves.

Some were geniuses. Others weren't cut out for Mafia life.

Some were startlingly intelligent, and others were as dumb as nails.

Xanxus was unlike any villain you had ever dealt with.

The problem was, you didn't understand him. At all.

Your mental picture of him became blurred and hazier with every word he spoke. You liked to keep information stored away inside of your brain in folders. Xanxus' folder was thinner than the rest, and DANGER was stamped all across the front in red.

You weren't sure what to do about him.

How could you survive as a double agent when you couldn't even deal with the target?

With a sigh, you bid Lussuria farewell, then stepped into your room and closed the door. Locked it. The lock didn't satisfy you much; all it would take was a thrust from Lussuria's broad shoulder and the door would give way.

You waited in front of the door, as still as a statue.

You listened for the sound of footsteps retreating back down the corridor.

Only when you were sure they were gone did you hurry across the carpet, toward the dresser.

You yanked the bottom right drawer out, dug wildly through the various kinds of panties—ranging from sexy to plain, silk to cotton, black to white and every color in between—until your fingers closed around the chain.

_Oh, good. It's still here._

You didn't bother to close the drawer or take a seat on your bed. You sat down right there on the floor. Grasped the ring between your forefinger and thumb.

"I still don't know how this works or what this does," you murmured, rolling it between your fingers. The sapphires caught the light, sparkled brilliantly. "But here goes."

You closed your eyes, pressed the ring against your bosom, and _thought._

Your mind was full of clutter, of whirling questions and wild complaints, of unrelated desires and ignorant wishes. You shoved everything aside. Focused only on emptying out your brain.

When you could hear yourself think, you began searching.

It was there, somewhere, hidden deep in the dark corners of your mind. You knew it was there. As you scrutinized every crack and fissure, every nook and cranny, you felt it. The ring throbbed each time you came up short.

Soon it was throbbing with a pulse of its own.

You knew it was there.

The link that connected you to Vongola Decimo, via the ring.

You just had to find it.

A silver cord, one that hummed and sang with power. You could see it now, as you inhaled deeply, matched your heartbeat to the ring's pulses. A band of energy, linking you and the boy, so real you could touch it. It bound the two of you mind to mind, drew you closer with each passing second until…

Something cold, lingering, fleeting trickled over your skin.

A chuckle purred into your ear. Mist tendrils caressed your face.

"H-Hiiieee! Whisper!?"

Your eyes flew open.

Tsuna stared at you, shock written all over his face. From the looks of it, he had been studying—he held a thick math textbook in one hand, and he gripped a pencil tightly in the other. Both objects fell from his grasp, hit the floor, then disappeared with a slight flash of blue.

Now you understood. The ring was for long-distance communication.

You couldn't resist smiling. "Hiya, Decimo."

He tried to recover. It took a moment. "Wh-Whisper? How're you…" He noticed the ring. "Oh. I s-see. You finally got it to work."

"Long time no see," you said.

He was about to respond when someone on his end yelled, "Juudaime! Are you all right?"

Gokudera slowly came into view. His olive-tinted eyes rounded upon seeing you; then he scowled. "…tch. You're still alive, eh?"

"G-Gokudera-kun!" Tsuna scolded. "Don't say that!"

Abashed, Gokudera bowed, bowed, bowed his head.

"It's good to see you, too, Smokin' Bomb."

He looked down his nose at you, regarding you with indifference.

Tsuna awkwardly coughed into his fist. "Uh, Whisper," he said, and both your eyes and Gokudera's were instantly on him. He was ordinary in everything he did. Yet he held so much potential. You couldn't help but be in awe.

"How are you doing?"

"Hm? I'm fine, why do you ask?" You smiled. Deceptive. Deliberately so.

"No, that's not what…"

You raised a finger to your lips. Shook your head slightly, almost as though you hadn't. "Don't say another word," you breathed. They had to understand. You flicked your eyes to the window, then the bedpost, the picture frame by the bed.

Judging by his blank look, Tsuna didn't get it.

His right-hand man, however, did. As expected. "You're right. We need someplace…_unoccupied._"

Still confused, Tsuna started to ask what the two of you were talking about.

You got to your feet, holding the ring, keeping their illusions in place. "You know, I think I'm going to change. Take a shower, maybe." Both boys flamed red.

As you walked toward the bathroom, you kept one eye on the metallic eye above the bedpost. Only an acute amount of movement, but it followed you.

You stepped into the bathroom, closed the door behind you. Locked it.

Tsuna spoke up first. "Okay, I don't know what—"

"Still not safe," Gokudera and you said in unison. You grasped the hem of your mini dress, wrenched it up and over your shoulders. Before either boy could freak out over your actions, you winked and tossed the dress toward the sink. It crumpled in a heap next to your toothbrush, covering the only lens focused on you.

You faced the two Vongola. Completely dismissed the fact that you were standing in your underwear. "Up until a few hours ago, it's been smooth sailing for me. Except for one thing. Xanxus is planning on having me trained."

"By a Varia member?" the brunette asked.

"Of course, who else?"

"You're screwed," Gokudera stated.

"I decided that going along with the training is the best thing to do. It's a chance to improve. Even the best need work, right?"

"I don't know," Tsuna said hesitantly. "Varia is overwhelmingly strong; they are unlike anyone you've ever faced. You could get seriously hurt. Maybe you ought to refuse the training, (y/n)…"

"Don't you dare talk me out of this," you warned, missing his usage of your real name. "I will do as I please, and this training will be very beneficial."

"You'd better listen to Juudaime." Gokudera, glaring at you.

You suddenly weren't sure why you were getting angry. You didn't even want to train with a Varia Guardian in the first place! So then why…?

_His eyes burned into yours. Smoldering, scorching fire._

"It doesn't matter," you said quickly, throwing a hand up. "I wanted to quickly fill you guys in with details. It seems that I'm the only Angiola here, and while Xanxus isn't intent on killing me yet, I'm not exactly sure i_what_/i he's planning to do."

"Have you figured out what their motive is for rebelling?" barked Gokudera.

"Negative, I haven't been able to do much of anything."

There was a pause in all the talking. Gokudera looked off to the side. Tsuna scrunched his forehead in thought. You ran a hand through your hair.

A few minutes went by before you realized that you had promised the onlookers a shower. The water wasn't running. Your captors would be suspicious.

"Since you haven't come up with a solid plan by now, Decimo, I'll proceed as I like. I'm not sure how long it will take, but I'll gather as much information as I can during the training. Until then, you Vongola sit tight."

"You can't just decide for yourself, woman—," Gokudera growled.

With a hand, Tsuna cut him off. "(Y/n)," he said, and you didn't even think to correct him. "(Y/n), you need to be careful. Okay? You're an ally, a comrade…and a friend. I don't want you to get hurt."

You nodded. "Of course." Flashed a smile. "Don't worry about me, Decimo."

"Hai, I know…"

Their outlines began shimmering in and out of focus. The illusion was about to break.

You stood up, slipping the ring onto your finger. "Guess this is it," you said, moving toward them. "So I'm able to go on with the training, right?"

"Stupid," Gokudera muttered.

"Yes, as long as you're careful," said Tsuna.

"I will, I will." You threw your arms around Tsuna, knowing he was only air. "That whisper you're waiting for? Just a little longer, Young Vongola."

He smiled. "Whatever it takes."

You smiled back at him, glanced over your shoulder at Gokudera. The silverette only scowled.

You stepped back. Inclined your head slightly, a last farewell. Then you turned to the shower and flicked the showerhead on as the Vongola disappeared with a flash of blue light and that familiar purr.


	11. Home Tutor

There was a presence over your head.

You felt the sinister presence lurking just above your head. Even in your sleep, your body was responding. Every fiber was hardening, and your body was unconsciously getting ready to fight.

You cracked an eye open, slowly as possible.

"O-ho~ Good morning, Whisper-chan. Did you sleep well?"

"Damnit, Lussuria, quit doing that!"

He poked your forehead. "Silly, I'm here for a reason, you know. Boss wants you downstairs immediately. It's time to start your training!"

Already? You hadn't expected your training to start so soon…you'd barely had any time to mentally prepare yourself. Who knew what levels of difficulty you would be forced under?

"What time is it?" With a moan, you dragged yourself up onto your elbows. Glared at the digital clock. "It's three in the fucking morning, Luss."

He only shrugged, pushed back your covers, and began tugging you up into a sitting position.

You protested, but when he persisted, you finally gave up, allowing him to pull you. "When I see Xanxus, he's dead," you promised through a yawn.

"Mmm-hmm. Now get dressed quickly and let's go!"

Stumbling over to the bathroom, you did a quick rinse-and-spit, splashed water onto your face, and slapped your cheeks to wake up a little bit more. Off came your silk nightgown, and you put on a simple fitted black shirt and matching pants, blindly grabbing a tie as you staggered back out into the bedroom.

Lussuria led you downstairs to the dining hall. You walked in a daze, desperately trying to shake off your weariness. Your slumber had been dreamless—no water, no choking, no drowning this time. Most likely because your mind was too exhausted to even conjure up dreams.

You weren't all that surprised when you found the dining room occupied. The same four assassins from last time. They ate like they were starving pigs, and they sounded just as bad.

You suspected that this was a normal thing for them, to have dinner—breakfast?—before dawn. It would take some time getting used to. Back in Angiola headquarters, you'd operated on a random stomach-based schedule.

It took one sleepy glance at the French braided bread for your mouth to water. You were ravenous. Oh, you could practically_ taste_ the bread softening on your tongue…

That's when you noticed Xanxus seated at the head of the table. He sat in his trademark golden throne. A bottle of white wine was before him. His platter held numerous crusts of pizza, which he was shoveling into his mouth.

He continued to do so even as you gaped, your appetite quickly fading. _Ugh…_

As if on cue, the others spotted you. Squalo was the first to speak with his ear-deafening screech of, "VOOOOOOIIII! WELCOME BACK TO REALITY, SLEEPING BEAUTY!"

"Honestly, there has to be some sort of fee for sleeping that long," Mammon lilted in his singsong voice.

Finished with his umpteenth slice, Xanxus swallowed hard, washing it down with a chug of wine. "Angiola trash," he practically snarled, "what took so fucking long?"

"Well, no one said you had to wait up for me." You slit your eyes.

He dragged the back of his palm over his mouth.

Lussuria interjected himself here. "Whisper-chan, have some food!" he suggested, sitting opposite Squalo with a slice of chocolate cheesecake. "It would do you good to eat something."

You shook your head, never once taking your eyes off Xanxus. "I was woken up for training. Let's start, then." He didn't move, didn't react. "Come on. You're going to be training me, right? Get your ass up."

"Not me, scum. One of my shitty subordinates."

All eyes were on you now. Each gaze was leaden; you felt them weighing you down. "Okay, well, who's going to train me?"

"I refuse," Mammon answered. He began to fade. "There's not a single chance for me to make money. Therefore, it's useless."

Leviathan was next. "I won't, either. Training a girl is embarrassing." He gave Xanxus an apologetic look, which was completely ignored.

"VOOOOIII! I've got better things to be doing!" Squalo's shark-toothed sneer was every bit as loud as his voice. "You wouldn't last under my training for a day, trash!"

You were about to tell him exactly where he could shove his training when Lussuria broke in with, "Sorry, Whisper-chan, but it's not me. I'm the Sun candidate, you see, and we wouldn't be able to continue hand-in-hand."

That left one other person.

With a jolt, you looked to the other end of the table.

"Ushishishi~ The prince is looking forward to working with you," Bel drawled. His voice was eerier than you remembered it to be. He twinkled his fingers at you; silver glinted between each finger. Knives.

The faint scar on your stomach pulsed. He'd cut you there. A meaningless attack.

Full of dread, you turned to Xanxus. "Listen, perhaps it'll be better if you train me instead," you started.

"Are you looking to die?" he said simply.

His outright cockiness caused anger to spiral upward your chest. "You fucking bastard—"

"Shut up. Belphegor is training you, scum. Deal with it."

With that said, Xanxus went back to stuffing his face with more pizza.

The other Guardians were eating their share, and you shook your head in disgust. You'd taken anyone over Bel. The blonde's wheels weren't properly functioning. His brain was off-kilter. And, to be honest, he frightened you.

You suddenly wished you hadn't told the Vongola Decimo that you were serious about the training. You wanted to go back on your word, but as an Angiola agent, you couldn't. You wouldn't.

But you wanted to.

You weren't sure how long the regimen would last, but you weren't looking forward to the next few weeks at all.

Judging by Bel's insane, toothy grin, he felt exactly the opposite.


	12. Bloody Prince

Today was your first training lesson with Bel, and as a silent Leviathan led you to the training room, you were overcome with the most terrible feeling. It was a sensation you hated allowing yourself to feel.

Fear.

Honestly, you were not looking forward to these sessions. You had barely been able to sleep last night, on account of your anxiety for today.

But you were an Angiola agent, you reminded yourself over and over. You were the famed angel from the Angiola familigia. Your whisper was heard by all, seen through by none.

And so you squared your shoulders and focused on following Leviathan's broad back.

He barely spoke more than three words during the entire walk. For that, you were glad. Had he had tried to make conversation, you would've blown him off.

You turned the corner after him. He stopped in front of a set of heavy, wooden doors. The handles were made from gold, but the door itself was fashioned from deep charcoal oaken.

"Have fun," Leviathan said sourly as he stepped back.

You glanced at him as you stepped past him. Then you took a deep breath. Pushed open a door and slipped inside.

Bel was leaning against the far wall, his head tipped back in a manner that said he was supremely bored.

"What took you so long, princess?"

A scowl crossed your face. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that," you said. "The name's Whisper."

"Denied. I'm a prince, and I will call you whatever I want to call you."

His tone was condescending. Did all members of Varia have attitude problems or what? Irritation was replacing your fear. "You make it seem as though we have some sort of correlation."

"And what would that be, princess?"

There was a smirk forming underneath his blonde hair. With an exhale, you forced yourself to drop the subject. "All right, Belphegor—"

"I am a prince, and you will address me as such."

"Oh, would you shut up with the whole prince thing?" You would have taken _anyone_ over Bel. Even Xanxus. Especially, you realized with a jolt, Xanxus.

When Bel didn't say anything else, you spoke again. "Let's get started, then. I don't have all day with you, you know."

He tipped his head back even further. You got the sense that he was looking down his nose at you. Snubbing you, in a way. As though he thought he was better than you.

"What's your preferred combat?" he questioned.

"Hand-to-hand," you answered quickly. You loved the rush of adrenaline that came when a foe swung your way. "And I'm pretty decent with firearms. Long-range shooting, mostly."

"Pathetic," Bel declared.

A vein throbbed in your forehead, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of a retort. You slit your eyes instead. Gazed at him coolly.

Bel pushed himself off the wall in a fluid movement. He spread his hands. Knives poured from his sleeves, though it was impossible for them to be hidden there. Tens upon tens of irregular-shaped knives, all sparkling in the dim light. They surrounded him on all sides, forming rotating rings around him.

"These knives play a cutting waltz," he murmured. His voice was low and dusky. Watching him warily, you felt a shiver run down your spine. "Think you can outwit them with your hand-to-hand combat, princess?"

He was asking for you to dodge his advances. You would give him what you wanted, even as you were engulfed in fear. Your muscles seized. Your breath caught.

"Come at me," you said with a nod.

"Ushishishi~ As you wish."

And then he was moving toward you. You barely had time to prepare yourself before he threw the first knife. It whizzed to your right, coming dangerously close to your forearm. You spun away, cutting your eyes to the blur of silver as another knife sailed your way.

He'd thrown low, and the knife was aimed at your temple. Without thinking, you dropped to the ground. The knife clattered to the ground somewhere below you. You weren't even on your feet when a third knife came flying; you rolled to the side and leapt onto your feet.

Bel was quick, you'd give him that. He didn't allow for you to recollect yourself after each dodge. Knife after knife came your way, and you reacted without even assessing your current situation. Instinct, not thought, allowed you to stay unharmed.

The blonde before you was a prime example of that term: Varia quality. However, you were one of Angiola's best agents. You were pretty top-notch yourself.

You couldn't resist taunting him a little. "Is this all you've got?" you asked, leaping backward to avoid a blade. "Belphegor, I'm slightly disappointed. After all, I've heard that you've got the imposing nickname of Prince the Ripper. So why don't you show me just—"

Suddenly you froze. Your heart jumped up into your throat.

A disturbing smile split Bel's face.

You couldn't move. Fine-spun, barely-there threads encased you in a near-invisible web. They surrounded you on all sides, positioned impossibly close to your body so that you were cut even if you shifted a centimeter or two.

Now you understood why his attacks had been so easy to dodge. He had been preparing your silken grave. It had been, more or less, a decoy.

You were pressed against the wall, your arms out before you on either side, an eagle-tie. Thread looped around both wrists, rendering them immobile, as well as your ankles, locking them to the ground.

Bel was grinning at you. No, he was_ leering_ at you. He was enjoying watching your emotions flit across your face in a frenzied panic; you forced yourself to close off your expression.

"Who do you think I am, princess?"

Funny. Xanxus had asked the same question. So you gave him the answer you gave Xanxus: "You're a bastard."

A knife was hurled your way. You saw it coming clearly; you couldn't move, couldn't dodge, nothing. And so you flinched away from it.

And you cried out as the threads sliced into your body from all sides, digging into your flesh, drawing out blood.

The knife planted itself into the wall, the _thunk!_ resounding. It was only a few inches above your head. Bel had missed again. Deliberately.

His eyes were hidden, but you could see the excited expression he wore. Somehow you knew his eyes were drawn to the crimson blood dripping from your wrists, from the exposed patch of skin on your waist, from your thigh, your legs.

With a cluck of his tongue, he said, "Princess, you flinched. I can't have that."

You stared at him when he said, "You're going to stand there as I throw these knives." His smile widened. "Until you learn not to flinch."

Anger, mixed with fear, rose up in your throat. You were furious. You wanted out of the web so you could pound his little head into the ground. But before you could vocalize any of your thoughts, Bel flicked his fingers.

Another knife came at you, singing as it sliced the air. You tensed every muscle, willing yourself not to flinch.

But it was aimed toward your eyes. You gave a little shriek and jerked away from it. The pain was immediate. The wires dug deeper now, and your shriek quickly turned into an agonized groan as more blood was drawn. The blade smacked clean into the wall an inch from your head, the force of its impact making the handle quiver.

"The sight of your blood makes mine tingle," Bel mused aloud.

"You're sick," you gasped.

"Ushishishi~" He flicked both hands at you. Two knives this time. One at your neck, the other at your eyes again.

Every fiber in your being told you to move. _Ignore the wires. Just move!_

But as afraid as you were of the knives, the pain was equally frightening.

You shut your eyes tightly just as the knives sunk into the wall.

The double _thunks!_ were deafening, but you managed not to flinch as hard. The cuts were shallow this time.

It went on like that for a while. You weren't sure how many knives were thrown before you quit reacting completely. The flow of blood from your wounds slowed, then stopped altogether. Once you stopped bleeding, Bel decided that it was no longer interesting.

"You've learned not to flinch anymore," he said, and with a few hacking motions from one hand, the strings fell away, releasing you. "Aren't you glad I taught you?"

An unpleasant numbness had taken over your body. You couldn't feel anything other than that buzz. Unable to speak, you looked at Bel through glazed eyes.

He smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile; it held no warmth. "Due to princely matters, I won't be around these next couple of days. So we won't be able to play again until next week." _Play?_ Did he see this torture as a form of playing? "Adieu, princess, until we meet again," he sang as he stepped out from the room.

The doors slid shut behind him.

You fell to your knees as icy shivers wracked your body. You curled in on yourself, pressing your torn wrists to your bloody abdomen. You bit your bottom lip to hold back another groan.

You wanted out. No longer did you feel safe, even with the Vongola's blessing. Even if you _were_ the famed Angel.

Bel terrified you.

And you knew you couldn't escape, no matter _what_ you did at this point.


	13. An Angel's Place

You weren't sure how long you stayed in the training room. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. But it was a long time.

You stared, unblinking, unmoving. Your body felt frozen. Every part of you was frozen, except the wounds, which burned like hell as blood dripped ever so slowly from the cuts.

Without your ring, you had no way of healing yourself via Sun magic. You would have to do it the old-fashioned way. There was a spare shirt draped in the far back corner. Covered in dust, the color fading, it hadn't been touched for a long while.

Through sheer will, you hoisted yourself to your feet. All at once, pain washed over your body, threatening to force you to your knees again. You gritted your teeth; if you fell, you would not get up.

Walking over to the shirt was absolute torture. Each step shot electricity through your body. Each step caused the blood to pick up again; it ran in rivets across your flesh. Each step drew a whimper from you, which manifested to a cry, then an outright scream.

"Fuck!" you shrieked, almost collapsing as agony swept over your conscience. "F-Fuck!"

Somehow, you made it to the shirt.

The fabric had been meant for a man, so it was rather large. You ripped it into strips, which you used to bandage your wounds. You tied one onto your thigh. Another around your abdomen. One on your elbow. Two on both legs, and a couple around both wrists.

By the time you were done, the pain had lessened considerably. Blank panic had overtaken you. You weren't sure what to feel, other than a gut-wrenching **panic.**

You didn't want to do this anymore—

_Wimp. You take a few nicks to your skin, and all of a sudden you're ready to crawl into a hole? What's wrong with you? Do you know who you are?_

_You are the agent Whisper. Angiola's best agent. You are currently undercover as a double-agent, working to destroy Varia._

_You can't give up. It's unacceptable. If you give up now, not only will you be seen as a coward, but you will have failed both the Vongola and Angiola. Again._

Hot anger replaced the panic. It coursed your veins, working its way to your heart. Your blood was boiling. Your eyes were narrowing in heavy concentration; you were clenching both fists; you were smiling, and it was a dark smile of sorts.

"An angel can become a demon in an instant," you said to yourself. "It is wise not to mess with an angel."

_That's right._

The Storm flame attribute, dissemble, was choking its way up your throat. You wanted to destroy everything in the room. You wanted to destroy the castle.

You wanted to destroy Bel.

But pure fury wasn't going to get you anywhere. In fact, it would get you killed. You had to remain control. It was best if you acted like nothing had happened.

"Easier said than done," you muttered.

With slow, deliberate steps, you got to the door. Each step put your further away from the pain, the panic, the anger. You shoved open the door.

Leviathan stood there, silent and still as a statue. Had you not known the true meaning of terror, you would have startled. You stared him down instead, smoked him with your eyes.

"Meeting," he said. "Boss has requested your presence." Disdain in the words, like he felt rejected that Xanxus wanted you attending.

"Lead the way."

You trailed after Leviathan. He didn't slow down as he led you through endless lefts and rights. You were grateful; your pace improved. Soon, you were walking almost normally.

He lumbered through the entrance of a room. You peered around his bulk. The room was surprisingly nice for a meeting room. Wall-to-wall windows were on the sides. The front wall was entirely covered with monitors and gadgets and state-of-the-art technology.

You scanned through the monitors. They showed empty corridors, rooms, balconies, private gardens, the wilderness outside. A couple of the monitor views seemed to be smeared with something pink and thick—strawberry conditioner, you realized; those were the lenses in your suite.

This was a useful room, you concluded. You could do some great damage in here.

"VOOOOOII! ABOUT TIME YOU GOT HERE!" Squalo bellowed in greeting. He, along with others, were seated at an oval-shaped table in the middle.

Lussuria waved a hand. "Whisper-chan, over here!" He patted an empty seat next to him. You glanced at it in dismay. Xanxus would be on the other side of you. But it was a better than being next to Bel.

_No fear._

You strode over there, plopped down. Immediately, a screen sprang from the table. It shone a deep red, the same shade as a Storm flame. "Nice."

"How was the training?" asked the flamboyant one on your left.

"I—great," you said breezily. "I learned a lot."

"Princess and I had lots of fun," Bel hummed from his seat. He had his feet up on the table. Even without his eyes visible, you knew he was watching you.

"Oh, I can just tell you're a great Guardian!" Lussuria crooned.

"Clearly she's not, seeing as she was captured," Squalo sneered.

"Right," agreed Mammon lazily. "You're an eyesore."

"No one is as good as the Boss!" Leviathan said passionately.

"I'm not a Guardian," you started.

"Shut up, all of you," Xanxus growled. Everyone fell silent. You scoffed silently. What was up with everyone's obedience? They acted like pit bulls on chains.

Well, you weren't going to jump in the bandwagon. You didn't listen to the feather-wearing freak.

"Why am I here?" you demanded. You set your elbow on the table, propped your head up. Gave him a lethal smile.

The sleeve of your leather jacket lifted up, just enough to expose your wrist. Gray strips of bandages peeked out. The material was darkening with blood.

It didn't escape Xanxus. His red irises flicked down for a moment, then latched onto yours.

There was a chance that he'd misjudge those bandages. Maybe he thought you'd tried to off yourself. It was better than the truth.

"Vongola," he answered.

"Vongola?" you repeated. Your heart stuttered. You kept smiling mockingly.

"Unfinished business, scum," he clarified. Then he turned to face his subordinates, completely ignoring you.

You slowly sat back in your seat. Your stomach seemed to have plummeted through the floor.

He wanted to talk to Vongola so suddenly. It could only mean one thing—he'd found you out.


	14. One to Gloat

Your spine was absolutely rigid as Xanxus barked orders. He commanded Lussuria to set up the long-distance call to Vongola. He told Mammon to fire up their screens. And he yelled at Squalo to get him a bottle of red wine.

"VOOOOI, GET IT YOURSELF, YOU MOTHERFUCKER," Squalo growled loudly. When Xanxus leveled him with an unnerving stare, the silverette threw his hands off. "ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, FINE!" He stalked out of the room.

"Ushishishi~ So noisy," Bel giggled.

You twisted your hands in your lap. You knew the tie between Varia and Vongola was blood-stained. The two families didn't make random calls to each other. For Xanxus to demand to talk to Vongola so suddenly could mean only one thing.

But how had you been found out? The ring hadn't been questioned. Upon first glance, the ring appeared to be a regular ring. If one knew the history behind the seals, then, yes, the ring would have been an obvious clue, but you had kept the ring closely monitored and hidden.

Maybe the assassins had eavesdropped on your conversation with Vongola Sky and Storm. You had covered every possible lens then, but there was still a chance for eavesdroppers…

Staring hard at the round table, you ran through everything you had said or done regarding being a double agent. There were no lead-offs, no loose ends. It had been information privy only to you.

_Then the call can't be about me, can it?_

"HERE'S YOUR SHITTY WINE. ENJOY." Squalo was back. He slammed the wine bottle down onto the table so hard. You were surprised when it didn't shatter in his hands. He stalked over to his seat and sat heavily.

Mammon sighed. "I suppose we should begin," he said. He pressed a button underneath the table.

Screens sprang up from hidden compartments underneath the tabletop. Each was a different color, depending on the class flame. On your left, Lussuria's was a bright, cheerful yellow. Xanxus's was a brilliant orange.

The only color missing from the flame spectrum was violet. Seemed Varia didn't have a Cloud candidate.

Across the table, Bel's screen was the same hue of scarlet as yours. There were two Storm-flame users in the room. You had to remind yourself.

"Connections are up and running," Lussuria announced. There was a complicated-looking keyboard set before him. His fingers were poised, ready to type.

Knocking back a swallow of wine, Xanxus nodded once.

Lussuria's fingers flew across the keys. The sound produced, _click, clack_, was frenzied.

The assassins waited in unified silence. Your heart was hammering against your rib cage. You were sure they could hear it. You coughed, trying to look uninterested in all of it.

The screens simultaneously went black, and then a face filled them up.

Intelligent brown eyes. A lopsided smile. A scruffy beard.

The head of CEDEF. Iemitsu Sawada.

At the sight of a familiar face, your breath rushed out from your lungs. Iemitsu was a good friend of Angiola. You had gotten to know him quite well over the course of the last few years. You enjoyed the man as company; he knew how to show a good time and you could always count on him to make you laugh.

"What a surprise, Xanxus," he said. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Xanxus raised his brows up a fraction. "Iemitsu," he said.

"Yes?"

"I've gotten hold of something interesting."

"What could that be? New firearms? A fancy wine, perhaps?" The man seemed wholly unconcerned about the whole thing.

"Something I can easily…_dispose_ of when the time arises."

His wording choice irked you. "Dispose of?" you echoed, raising a finger to point angrily in his direction. "Listen here, bastard, I'm not—"

Upon hearing your voice, Iemitsu's eyes widened. "Whisper? Is that you?"

Even though you wanted to give Xanxus a piece of your mind, you turned to your screen. Smiled like everything was all right. "Good to see you again, Iemitsu."

"Yeah…you, too." His expression darkened. "Why are you there?"

"Um. Well. I was captured, and I've been here now, for a while—"

Xanxus interjected himself in the middle of your words. "You're not here to converse with him, scum," he said, giving you a sideways glare. You glowered back at him.

"Why is Whisper with you, Xanxus?" Iemitsu questioned. The threatening edge to his voice made you feel incredibly special. "What have you done to her?"

"Nothing," Lussuria responded.

"Yet," Bel added, followed by his trademark snicker.

Two things occurred to you then. First: Iemitsu wasn't aware of the current situation between Varia, Vongola, and Angiola. He had been kept out of the loop, for some reason. You suspected it was Ninth's doing.

And second: this call wasn't because Xanxus had found you out. In fact, he was only calling the CEDEF boss to gloat.

Like you were a trophy or something. And that pissed you off even more than getting caught would have.

"Listen up, Iemitsu," Xanxus said. "Varia broke its alliance with Vongola." Before Iemitsu could comment, the psychopath beside you continued. "Varia also captured the Angiola Familigia. Most of them are being held in their other castle. But the famed Whisper is here, alive…for now.

"I want you to tell everyone—including your shitty Vongola son and that fucked-up bastard Ninth—that unless they don't want another war on their hands, they'd best stay out of my business. Just because Angiola is unharmed now doesn't mean it will stay that way. I will personally kill each and every single of those trashy agents if I even _think_ you're planning to retaliate. Understand?"

Iemitsu didn't answer for a long moment. His liquid brown eyes stared hard at Xanxus. You kept silent.

Then the man said, "I agree to your terms, Xanxus."

Xanxus's grin was feral. "Remember it, Iemitsu. The CEDEF never go back on their word." He flicked a finger at Lussuria; the Sun Guardian typed in something and the screen in front of you drained to black.


	15. Recuperating

After that little gloating session, you were sent back to your suite. You decided to take the time to do a little thinking.

You had been surprised to hear Iemitsu hadn't known about the broken alliance. There were a couple theories as to why that had happened.

First, there was the possible interference of Vongola Nono. An elderly man of the age of seventy, Nono was kind and gentle-looking, a real grandfatherly type of individual. You had never met him before; you only knew about him through Iemitsu, as the CEDEF boss was a good advisor to Nono. Maybe Nono hadn't wanted Iemitsu to know about the alliance.

There was also the questionable scenario of the CEDEF having been too busy to hear about it. But that seemed highly unlikely—Angiola's capture was becoming widely known throughout the mafia world.

You could only think of one reason plausible, then: Tsuna and his Guardians had kept it a secret.

On the surface, that seemed highly unlikely, that the Decimo's Familigia would be able to keep such a huge matter under tabs.

But you had to remember one thing.

The Arcobaleno Reborn was involved.

If anyone could manage to hide the broken alliance, it would've been Reborn. The strongest of the Arcobaleno, Reborn had unlikely connections and mysterious ways. No one could understand him. You'd met with him a few times before, and the baby came off as a trickster, sly and devious. You had admired that.

You made a mental note to ask Tsuna about it next time.

There were so many things you needed to get done. You had to formulize your next plan of action. The Varia room used for the long-distance call had been chock-full with gadgets and technology. It was a useful room. If you could somehow sneak out of your suite and slink down to that room, you could access Varia's system and do some critical damage. Maybe even get into contact with Vongola and the rest of your family.

But you'd have to escape from your room first. It would take a while to investigate every possible nook and cranny.

You rose to your feet, intending to start now, but a fresh wave of pain forced you to your knees.

The wounds from training. They hadn't been properly treated, so they had reopened. You didn't know when that had happened. But you could feel the blood dripping along the inside of your outfit, slicking your skin.

The sensation was gross, and you gagged, from both the feeling and the overwhelming urge to vomit.

You weren't sure how much longer you had before the wounds became infected. You needed to treat them properly, and now. No time could be wasted.

A glint of bronze sparkled near your dresser. Through the sheer force of your will, you made it over there without fainting or uttering anything louder than a groan. Your fingers closed around the ring; you collapsed to your feet.

Unlike most users of storm-class flames, you had the special ability to use a fragment of rain, cloud, lightning, and sun flames. Just like Gokudera and his Sistema C.A.I. Although you couldn't use those four core components as well as he could.

You closed your eyes and drew out the power of the sun. You felt the heat of the flames on your face, the activation factor kicking in soon after. They worked to close your wounds, to knit the flesh back together and stop the blood.

The healing process was over. You gingerly peeled back the makeshift bandages on your wrist, chanced a glimpse. All that remained was a thin scar, a faint outline, which would fade overtime.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. It was good to be a Storm user.

The pain was mostly gone, save for a numb buzzing in the areas of your wound. You pitched onto your feet with rough ease. You rotated your shoulders, worked the kinks.

Oh, you were going to get Bel back for what he'd done. You were going to get him back, all right.

But wow, your bad experience with him aside, he was an amazing fighter. He had been like a snake, the way he'd slipped in and out, around and around. And though he hadn't physically touched you yet, you knew he packed a punch.

And that i_technique…_/i

Never before had you seen such a technique in your life. His wildly aimed throws had been setting up a cocoon of wires. They'd been so finely spun, they had been near invisible. Had you not noticed them when you did, had you continued moving, you might have sliced your hands right off yourself.

Bel's attack made you wonder. He was a clear example of that term, Varia Quality. He was a prodigy, even.

Did the rest of your assassin captors have attacks like that?

Baby-faced Mammon. Leviathan and his creepy passion towards 'the Boss'. Loud-voiced Squalo. Flamboyant Lussuria, even.

Xanxus and his hooded, crimson gaze.

There was one of you. And six of them.

Did you stand a chance?

"Well, at this rate, I won't," you finally told yourself, annoyed at the clench of fear in your gut. You ripped the ring from your finger, tossed it back into the drawer. "I've got my strength back. It's no use just standing around."

The area of your room was gigantic. Even though your bed was marvelous and Queen-sized, it only took up a tiny amount of space.

You unzipped your leather jacket, dropped it onto your bed. Your shirt followed, leaving you standing in only your pants and a sports bra. It was time for some quick training exercises.

You hadn't done acrobatics in a while, but you knew you still had it in you somewhere. You took a deep breath. Shut your eyes. And threw yourself backward into a flip, your legs snapping out in front of you in a perfect arc.

The landing wasn't clean, but you could improve it easily.

A couple more backflips. A few well-aimed kicks at an imaginary enemy. One handspring, three quick crouch-and-rolls. You peppered your enemy with jabs and punches, then cracked your right leg out, aiming for his chin with your heel. You held the position for a long minute.

Slowly, you lowered your foot, your body automatically rippling down into a half-crouch. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror; there was a huge smile on your face.

You had always been confident in your hand-to-hand skills. Even if Bel had an amazing marksmanship with knives, he couldn't hold a candle to the many different styles of fighting that had been hammered into your body.

Varia was devastatingly strong, but you weren't allowing yourself to get overwhelmed.


	16. Caught Purple-Handed

Bel had left early in the morning. A little of the pressure in your chest disappeared, at the realization of you not having to face the crazed, self-proclaimed prince. It was good to know that he wasn't going to be around for a while, poking his upturned nose everywhere. If you recalled correctly, he'd be gone for a week or so—a perfect chance for you to put forth some snooping.

Or so you thought.

You were lounging about innocently in your suite. You were brainstorming ways to inflict maximum damage on the castle that imprisoned you. Your torso dangling off the side of the bed, you were in a propped-up handstand as you thought.

Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable position, but, hey. You were getting creative.

Silence surrounded you on all sides. Eyes closed, you focused only on the steady thrum of your heartbeat.

_Crackle…bzzzt_!

"Scum. Come down to my office."

Another crinkle of static, along with an unmistakable, gravelly voice, assaulted your ears. Your concentration shattered, you tumbled off the side of the bed. Landed in a heap on the floor.

"Goddamn," you groaned.

Through the speakers installed within the walls, you swore you heard Xanxus scoff.

Heaving a sigh, you hauled yourself to your feet and shuffled over to the closet to pull on something decent. You settled on a pair of red skinny jeans, a black button-down, and a matching red tie. Fancy, but not too fancy for an uncalled meeting with Xanxus.

The hue of ruby reminded you of one of two things: eyes and blood.

Neither brought pleasant reactions.

When you opened the door to your suite, you found Leviathan on the other side. Seemed like the Varia still didn't trust you enough to wander by yourself. Not that they should have.

"Bye, Levi," you said cheerfully once you were shown the gold-plated door. He only grunted in response. Obviously he hadn't warmed up to you yet. But in time.

Xanxus was seated behind his desk. His hooded, scorching gaze seemed a hundred times more fiery than usual. His trademark bottle of wine wasn't anywhere in sight.

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. "You called?"

He didn't say anything. Only continued to sear you with those probing reds.

In the time you'd gotten to know him, you knew Xanxus wasn't much of a talker. Still, there was something ominous n this heavy silence.

"Anything wrong?" you said warily.

Suddenly, he stood up. His throne-like chair scraped hard against the plush carpeting. He strode around the desk and over to you, his pace fast and brisk. Unsure of his motive, you only had enough time to back up against the door before he was on you.

Thrusting a hard on, he snatched your right arm. Hard.

You hissed upon contact. "Ow!" _What_ was he doing? "Hey—"

Xanxus shoved your sleeve back. Exposed the faint scars crisscrossing your wrist.

Eyes flashing, he did the same to your other wrist. You didn't say or do anything to stop him.

"Who did this?" he ground out harshly from behind clenched teeth. When you didn't answer right away, he yanked your wrists high above your head in one of his large hands. His force was almost painful. "_Who did this?"_

"Guess," you gasped.

With a snarl, Xanxus wrenched your wrists even higher. You screamed, tears brimming into your vision. His fingers were digging into the scars.

"Give me a straight fucking answer, scum," he growled.

You managed to response, despite the overwhelming agony. "Bel!"

As soon as the name left your lips, he released you. You sagged against the door, cradled both wrists to your bosom. It appeared your slight Sun magic hadn't completely done the trick in healing.

Xanxus was watching you. His face was stony, all lines and hard angles.

"Figured you wouldn't off yourself," he said.

"What makes you so sure?" you snapped, pissed at how roughly he'd handled you. What the fuck was he, an animal? Did he have any manners? His actions had been completely uncalled for.

"Didn't think you were _that_ much of a coward."

He wasn't touching you anymore, but he stood uncomfortably close. You could feel the heat radiating from his body. You wanted to move away, and yet, at the same time…

"Ever heard of personal space?" you quipped.

His eyes flicked up, held yours. The seconds ticked by slowly. Warmth flooded your senses. You found that you wanted to move closer, to have the sinful fever envelop your body.

He stepped back, breaking your trance. You blinked, clearing your mind from the haze. Half-repulsed and half-fascinated with the shiver that wracked your spine.

"I've decided," he said.

You waited for him to elaborate. He didn't.

"You've decided what?"

"That I will train you from now on."

"What? Why?" The words were reflexive. The relief that doused your nerves surprised you. You didn't exactly associate i_safety_/i with him.

Xanxus chose not to answer, knowing you already had the answer.

"So, is this going to be just until Bel gets back or not?"

Turning his back on you, Xanxus strode over to his desk. He bent behind it. When he straightened back into view, a champagne-filled flute dangled from his fingers. He threw his head back, took a hearty sip.

"I'm looking forward to sparring with you, scum," he said, once he'd swallowed. You couldn't really say he smiled then. It was more like he'd bared his teeth at you.

You wrapped your hands around your elbows, gripped tight. "And why's that?"

"Heard you were a good combat fighter. And unlike the trash prince, I don't use tricks."

He was practically _oozing_ confidence. You'd give it back to him, despite the foreign buzzing in your bones. "Can't wait to kick your ass," you said, smirking.


	17. Musings

_You were choking. Drowning. Water kept pouring into your mouth, pulsing with a thickness, a warmth of a heavy breath._

_You clawed at your throat in a wild attempt to suck oxygen into your lungs. Instead, the water sloshed down your esophagus. You swore you felt it starting to collect at the bottom of your lungs._

_Your eyes blurred with tears as panic hazed over your vision, your senses. The raw panic amplified every soggy sensation. It overtook your brain, and your body went limp as you succumbed to the fright._

_Then adrenaline shot through your veins. Next thing you know, despite the agony and blank fear, you were swimming toward the surface. By now you can't even gag on the watery film; it was all you had to wheeze in the tiniest drops of air._

_Your head burst out from the water first. There was no way for you to gain your footing on solid ground, so you tread water. You tread as you begin vomiting seawater._

_Each heave brings forth more mouthfuls of water than the last. You were a blubbering mess of tears and water and vomit and snot; yet you continued to tread, continued to vomit._

_Finally, your system emptied out until you were dry-heaving. You wanted to collapse, but you couldn't. Collapsing would mean giving up. Giving up would result in death._

_You peered around, attempting to regain your bearings. There was a strip of land about half a mile away; maybe you'd find shelter, help there. But could you swim half a mile? You were tired, so tired…_

_Through your ragged breathing, you heard something._

_The sputtering of an engine._

_Before you could whip around, hands latched onto your shoulders and someone behind you breathed, "What are you doing out here?"—_

You bolted upright.

Your sleep-muddled senses immediately switched on, taking in your surroundings all at once: large room, dark, no life forms, nothing.

Breathing hard, you realized that it had all been a dream.

That dream about drowning. You'd had it again.

Strange, considering when and why you were having it. Ever since you started your training regimen, you hadn't dreamt of it. The fighting and constant strategizing had tuckered you out.

As to why you were having it, you weren't sure. You were a relatively good swimmer; you'd never drowned before. Yet there was some sense of familiarity about the dream, like the name of a song on the tip of your tongue.

You sensed that it was important.

But you weren't exactly sure why.

"Damn it!" you cursed, slouching back against the headboard. You stole a glance at glowing red numbers. One-thirty. You'd been blessed with an hour of sleep.

With your heart all revved up within your thoracic cavity, you knew there was no way you'd be getting some shut-eye any time soon.

Insomnia had never played a plague in your life. Any good agent needed her sleep. Otherwise, her senses and reflexes would be sluggish, and her life would be on the line.

Now, at a time where you needed to be alert the most, insomnia was kicking now. Now, of all times?!

You tipped your head back. Stared at the darkened ceiling above.

"I wonder how the rest of them are doing," you mused aloud, thinking about your family members. Angiola. For all you knew, they were still holed up in France. Had they been able to retaliate? Or were they prisoners locked up inside iron walls, like you?

"I've always wanted to see an authentic castle. Does it count when I'm held prisoner in one?"


	18. Fighting Fire

Your first session with Xanxus was for firearms.

Lussuria woke you up around two in the morning. Groggy and disorientated, you brushed your teeth, splashed your face with water, and threw on a tank top and shorts. Then you stumbled downstairs for breakfast.

After shoveling soggy cereal down your gullet, you followed Leviathan to some unknown room. Xanxus was waiting for you in there. "Wake up, scum," he said when you mumbled a greeting.

"I am awake," you slurred, swaying forward a step or two. Oh, what you wouldn't do for another hour of sleep.

Something cold was splashed onto your face. Wine. It drenched your skin, running in rivulets down the valley of your breasts, staining your clothes red.

"I said, wake up."

"I'm up," you snapped, glaring at him as you wiped your eyes. At least he hadn't thrown the glass at you.

Now that your senses were up and running, you could see that the room was some sort of shooting range. Similar to the training room you'd been in with Bel, there were various targets hung on the walls. A couple of life-sized targets were all the way on the other side of the room. Gigantic and spacious, it was made for both distance-shooting and running about.

"So it's firearms today, huh?" you commented, taking in the scenery. It was still rather dim, considering that it was only three in the morning or so. Most of the room was covered in shadow, throwing your measurements off. "And here I was hoping for some man-to-man combat."

Then you grinned at him. "Don't tell me you're afraid of fighting me, Xanxus. Is that the case?"

He simply raised an eyebrow.

The ferocious glimmer in his crimson irises gave you more than enough of an answer. "All right, all right. Next time, then."

Xanxus stalked over to the far corner, disappearing from sight. He must've taken off his Varia coat, for when he moved back into view he wore a long-sleeved white button-down and the standard black tie. Despite yourself, you noticed the way he filled out his shirt. His lithe muscles were evident, as were the flat, hard stomach and abs.

You were aware of your state of dress. The wine had collected on the undersides of your breasts and your waist; the excess trickled slowly down your thighs, resembling blood or a terrifying bout of PMSing. You knew you should run your hands over your skin, brush the wine away, and yet you couldn't, not while you were the focus of his eyes.

"How good are you with firearms?" he inquired, his low voice jolting you from your irrational thoughts.

"Distance, mostly." You couldn't say you enjoyed using guns. While acting as the occasional sniper was fine, you felt like you were hiding behind the scope. You enjoyed the physical rush of a head-to-head battle, the shudder of adrenaline that would ripple between your shoulder blades.

Xanxus must've hit something, for there was the groaning creak of metal. The wall directly before you opened up, revealing a tiny glass window, no bigger than two feet by two.

He threw something toward you. An automatic rifle. One of a pretty advanced design. His finger pointing at the window, he said, "Take the shot."

You gripped the rifle, testing its weight. It seemed about right.

You walked over to the window, pushed your palm against the pane. It dissolved under your touch, a draft of the night air blowing against your clothes. Mist magic. The glass was no longer there, no longer a barrier for you to take the shot.

You peered outside the tiny hole. It was a view of the impressive forest, with its multitude of sky-high trees. About 500 feet out, a life-sized target hung from one of the oaks. It dangled from the tallest branch, fluttering gently in the breeze. It was a clear shot, but the distance was intimidating, as was the wind factor.

You hoisted the rifle up, positioned the barrel out the window. Lined up the crosshairs with your target. Centered your finger. Took aim, a deep breath, and then fired.

_Blam!_

The kick was instant. It would've jerked your arm backward, had you not planted your feet firmly and steadied your grip beforehand. You lowered the rifle to your side and narrowed your eyes, spotting the bullet just as it ripped a role through the target's temple.

"Not bad," said Xanxus from behind you. "But you missed the forehead, scum."

"The shot still would've been fatal."

"Foreheads are instant kills."

"As are temples."

"Not quite." Something skidded along the floor, came to rest against your foot. "Now, for some real fucking fun."

Before you, the pane materialized back into view. There was another creak of groaning metal, this time louder and much longer. It sounded like obstacles were being sprung all across the room, heavy walls and cinder blocks. It finally stopped after a long moment.

The back of your neck prickled.

Your instincts screamed alarm. _Nnggh…I'm going to lose the exchange!_

You whirled around to find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.

You hit the floor just as Xanxus fired his shot. Heat rippled in the air above you. Had you not dodged the shot, your head would've been taken out. A forehead shot. Instant kill.

You scooped up the object on the floor beside you. A small pistol. Despite the fact that it was a pretty advanced design, a pistol was a pistol; they didn't do much damage.

You didn't have much time to vent. Xanxus was aiming, his eyes glinting and excited. "Too slow, scum," he said, squeezing the trigger.

You had already rolled to the side and you were on your feet, dashing forward. There were tons of obstacles within the expansive room. Obstacles translated to hiding places. You needed to find one and scope him out.

Another shot. You twisted to the right, narrowly avoiding getting hit. Xanxus laughed behind you. "You can't hide," he taunted.

"Try me," you replied, before disappearing from his sight.

You flattened yourself against the wall of a large cinder block. Thank the heavens it was still dark outside. The shadows provided even more nooks and crannies, but you weren't sure a professional like Xanxus would be deterred by a mere absence of light.

You were breathing heavily, and you forced yourself to take shallow breaths. Why hadn't you been alert enough to grab your ring before leaving your suite? The added power boost would've been helpful.

_I'll just have to make do._ Closing your eyes, you drew up the Cloud Flame on your finger.

"Cambio," you whispered. Instantly, your finger leaked purple-tinged flames like a disease. The Propagation factor allowed the makeshift of force fields; it should've been enough to keep Xanxus off your ass.

For a moment, it actually worked.

Then a bright beam of orange drilled into the cinder block before you. The obstacle exploded in on itself, showering concrete fragments everywhere. Xanxus sneered at you. "Your pathetic Cloud attribute isn't going to work against my Flame of Wrath."

The violet flame on your finger flickered, doused itself completely. "Shit," you swore, fumbling for your pistol. His Flame of Wrath contained Sky and Storm flames, enough to break your weak force field.

There was another burst of light, and then Xanxus was standing before you, his grin feral. "Not fast enough." He brought his fist upward, a sharp uppercut to your jaw.

You were able to block him at the last second, but the force of his strike and your complete surprise at his speed knocked you down flat on your back. Xanxus pressed a foot on your stomach, expelling the breath from your lungs in a forceful gasp.

His gun was cold to the touch along the arch of your throat as he nudged your face up, giving you a close-up of his leer. "One of Angiola's best?" He barked his laughter. "If that's the case, then I might as well kill the rest of them."

Your blood ran cold.

"You're lucky I find you useful, scum," he hissed. "Believe me."

You waited for him to finish you off, but the pressure on your chest lessened. Xanxus had stepped off you; he was turning away.

_Fucking bastard…!_

Bracing yourself, you threw your legs up. Wrapped them around his waist. With a grunt of effort, you flipped him over your body and onto the ground, straddling him hard. Your hands locked on his wrists, keeping him from using them.

Leaning close, you panted, "Never turn your back on an opponent."

He stared up at you. His eyes, twin blazing flames, sliced into yours.

You jumped up, untangling yourself. You'd acted out on instinct to bring him to the ground—the move had been drilled into your brain from years and years of intensive training—and yet you wished you hadn't done what you did. Even though Xanxus had provided you the perfect opportunity…

Cheeks warm, you dropped the pistol onto his chest. "Next time, give me a fair fight. Pistols don't do shit."

You didn't stick around any longer for his response. You fled into the shadows, making your escape from the training room, from his eyes.


	19. A Word With the Wise

Lussuria needed help in the kitchen, and so he requested your assistance as you were in the shower.

"I'm in a dilemma, Whisper-chan!" he exclaimed when you stepped into the kitchen, tying back your stringy wet hair into a tight, messy bun. "The vegetables need cutting, and the soup needs stirring, and the dishes need washing, and—it's all too much!"

"What can I help with?" you asked, exhaling. Back home in Japan, you often cooked. Eating out was too expensive and time-consuming; take-outs cost valuable money. Easiest solution was to cook your own meals.

"How good are you with handling meals?"

"I make a mean grilled-cheese sandwich."

He thrust a knife in your direction. "Start cutting."

You grabbed the knife, twirled it once around your fingers, and set to work. A shudder of repulsion ripped up your spine when your fingers closed around the hilt of the blade. Last time you'd dealt with a knife, it had been inches away from your eyes. Bel. He still wasn't back, and you were glad. You didn't have to deal with his madness.

Lussuria began humming to himself as he whirled around the gigantic kitchen, doing this and that, preparing a full-out midday meal for the Varia members.

As you continued slicing up the veggies, your mind wandered back to the training session with Xanxus.

He'd moved fast. _Fast_ was a hell of an understatement. Silent as shadow, deadly as night, he'd broken through your weak-ass defense and had you flat on your back in a matter of seconds. You hadn't even come close to incapacitating him.

His growled threat still rang clear in your ears: "Be grateful that I'm allowing you to live, scum. You and the rest of your fucking family."

His words had scared the shit out of you; you knew what he could do, and after witnessing a third—no, an _eighth_ of his power, you were afraid of seeing the collateral damage he was sure to unleash upon your family.

Part of it had been terror, some was instinct, but most of it was rage.

Rage at having been humiliated.

And so you'd acted on pure, natural impulse when you'd latched your legs to Xanxus' waist and flipped him over his head.

A winning move, you had to admit. Had it been anyone lacking the physique Xanxus had, their back would've been broken upon impact. But Xanxus held out; he was beyond strong, more talented in speed and skill than the average human.

So to make matters worse, you'd straddled him.

You had _straddled_ him.

Your face flushed with the recollection of the events as they'd played out. Of course, your intent had been to keep him from vaulting back to his feet and attacking you again. But now that you thought about it, your movements of straddling him had been a little too…suggestive.

But, damn. You didn't even have to close your eyes to feel his body underneath yours: all lithe muscle, with a toned chest and abs to match, stony legs, not an ounce of supple flesh.

And the fact that he had kept his cool, searing gaze on yours the entire time—

You nicked your finger. "Ow!" you hissed, and you switched the knife to your other hand and popped your bleeding finger into your mouth, sucking the wound.

Almost instantly, Lussuria was tugging you back. "Don't bleed over the vegetables, Whisper-chan!" he cried. "As wonderful as blood is, it's got a god-awful taste!"

You grimaced. "Lovely image you've painted there, Luss."

He ignored you, and he snatched the knife from your hand and turned to the food, slicing up cucumbers and tomatoes so insanely fast his arms were a blur. Five seconds later, he was all done, and he came back over to you.

"You'll need a band aid," he said.

"It's just a cut. Not a big deal."

"Are you sure?" He pursed his lips, eyeing you with concern. When you gave him a nod, he nodded back somewhat hesitantly. "Whisper-chan, is everything alright?"

"What? Yeah. Why?"

Lussuria continued to scrutinize you. Then a wide grin split his lips, his brows shooting up overtop his sunglasses. "You're thinking about a guy, aren't you?"

Caught off-guard, you spluttered indignantly. "Wh-what? Luss, let's be serious here." You attempted to laugh it off.

"Oh, don't play me for a fool, dear. You're practically _dripping_ hormones all over the floor."

"Luss," you said again, placing your hands on your hips. "First of all, I don't have the time to think about guys. And second of all, with me trapped prisoner in this castle as of late, how could I be crushing on someone when there's no one suitable?"

He didn't falter in the slightest. "Ouch. Harsh, Whisper-chan. But, hmmm, really. I wonder whom it could be? Squalo, maybe? He has dashing looks, but his loud squawking is a little off-putting…Bel, perhaps?" At your expression of utter horror, he held up both palms in surrender. "I digress! I digress! All right, not Bel, then…Levi?"

You sighed, letting your head loll back. "This is ridiculous, Luss. I'm not into anyone, okay? Never have, never will be." The color blue flashed across your mind, bringing with it the sense of calm and tranquility. You almost smiled. _Scratch that, I was in love with Yamamoto…_

"I've got it! It's Xanxus!"

The blue was immediately chased away by a scorching red, a crimson that burned with a soulless heat. You shuddered; a tell that Lussuria misinterpreted.

"Interesting," he mused with a sly smile. "So you have the hots for Xanxus."

"Oh, fuck off!" You flipped him the bird, then decided against it and poised your bleeding finger over the vegetables threateningly. "Do you believe me when I say that I don't like anyone? Or will I have to dirty the food?"

"No! Whisper-chan, you bitch!" he shrieked, and when you slowly lowered your hand, he cried, "I believe you, I believe you, okay!"

Laughing triumphantly, you pulled away. "Uh-huh. That's what I thought."

"You're evil," he said, but his face didn't match his words.

"So I've been told."


	20. Wash Me Away

"What's the deal, Xanxus? Did I put you in your place after I kicked your ass the other day?"

Technically speaking, you'd won the last round with your brilliant over-the-head flip. You'd rendered him immobile.

But Xanxus and his damn fiery gazes had put _you_ in _y__our_ place. Hands down, the victory had gone to him. The reason being was that your body had reacted to his. How traitorous, your body. You, a top-notch agent, had gotten flustered at the simple feel of a man's body?

Sad, but true.

When Xanxus requested your presence in early morning, you expected another repeat round. Instead, you'd been led to a small room, with little more inside than a square wooden table and an uncomfortable hard-backed chair. You couldn't help but think it looked awfully like an interrogation room.

"Is that why I'm here?" you said, voicing your thoughts aloud. "Are you going to interrogate me?"

There were no windows. It was usually dark. You could just make out the outline of Xanxus from where he stood against the wall, facing you, his muscular arms crossed tightly over his powerful chest. Faintly, you recalled hovering over that same chest, gazing down at his face, his eyes—

"Scum," he said suddenly.

You grunted in response. "Yeah." It was far too early for normal people to be up, but you weren't normal and neither were the Varia. Aside from that, you felt awake and revitalized. Electricity buzzed through your nerves. No reason to let him know.

"You're a Cloud Guardian?"

"Huh?" You were confused.

"The other day," he said impatiently. "You used Cloud Cambio. Yet you claimed to be Storm."

"I _am_ Storm, but I can use other flames as well," you explained. When he didn't look impressed, you elaborated. "You know of Vongola's Smokin' Bomb? It's actually sort of his technique. He can channel four different flame classes. I can as well, but not in the caliber that he can."

"Do it."

Again, you were confused. "Wait, you want a demonstration?"

"Must I ask again?"

He had been asking? "Well, if you didn't speak in fragments," you muttered, hiding your hands in your lap. This morning, you'd been smart in remembering to slip on your ring. It was snug on your pinkie, kept from sight by your long-sleeved thermal.

You touched the metal, ran your fingertip over the inset sapphires. "Cambio," you whispered, and the room brightened slightly with a Cloud-infused force field.

"It's stronger this time," Xanxus remarked.

"Got more sleep," you lied. The ring was your dirty little secret. He didn't need to know about it.

He held up a hand; orange-tinged Sky flames flickered in his palm, illuminating his half-smirk for a second before he ripped through your force field. You felt the pull in both your head and your finger, as your cloud flames were doused almost simultaneously with a headache that split your head into two.

"Didn't get enough," he said arrogantly. "Next."

You quickly called up sun, not for attack but to repair your mental state. The magic had just started working when Xanxus chuckled, and your concentration was shattered. "Too slow," he remarked.

"Would you stop—?" you muttered, and you summoned Lightning next. The emerald-hued flames flickered for a moment or two as you mentally shaped them into an orb, to hurl at Xanxus' head.

But his Sky factor ripped into that, as well. "I'm reconsidering my decision to let you live, scum," he taunted.

Anger was rising in your throat, dark and foreign. You were feeling rather humiliated at having your components so easily broken through. The humiliation burned a hole in your stomach. And rapid succession of flame use was leaving you light-headed and disorientated.

You weren't thinking straight when you called up your last flame, Rain.

It blazed bright blue just as you shot to your feet. You vaulted over the table in one boundless leap, barely pausing after you'd landed. Xanxus was already leaning against the wall, and he didn't have time to move before you were on him, pressing him back hard.

"You—" he started, but you cut him off.

"I don't like this," you said, tilting your face up to look at him. He was a couple inches taller than you, but the height was comfortable, like if he bent down, your lips would meet. And suddenly you wished he would; your head was pounding, with too much _pulsing desire._

"I don't like what you do to me, Xanxus."

Without second thought, you reached out and trailed your palm down his chest. The blue flames jumped from your skin to the fabric of his shirt, making it glow bright in the darkness of the room. Tranquility and calm, calmness washed over you, drowning your senses.

"Too powerful for your own good," you murmured, tracing your finger back up. Slowly, deliberately, wishing to feel the muscle underneath jump in anticipation, the way _his_ did.

You could almost _feel_ Yamamoto embracing you, his arms strong and tight around your waist as he leaned forward, a smile playing on his lips, to take yours. You threw your head back, pressed your body closer, parted your lips—

Xanxus shoved you away.

You stumbled backward, managing to catch your balance. Opening your mouth, you intended to snap at him when your rain flames winked out suddenly, without warning, leaving you cold and bare. And the pain was unlike anything you'd ever felt. You sank to your knees, clutching fistfuls of your (h/c) hair.

Towering over you, Xanxus' foot swung out. You saw the arc too late, when it caught you in the side. "Don't fucking touch me, scum," he spat. "Not with a damned Vongola on your mind."

_Had his eyes darkened a shade or two?_

"You c-can't," you spluttered, but Xanxus had turned and was striding away, abandoning you to a dark room full of memories and a sinful lust.


	21. To Lose Sense of Where

Catching some much-needed _z_'s would've been the right thing to do after your meltdown with Xanxus. Instead, you overrode all your rational, conscious thoughts and slowly got to your feet.

As always, Levi stood at the door, your silent escort. He was already striding down the hall when you stopped him with, "I want to go to an empty room. I need to _move_."

He eyed you uncertainly, with obvious distrust. "But Boss…"

"Screw him!" you snapped. And you _would._ With your head still spinning from lust, you _would._

You stared Levi down, and after a minute or two, he sighed in irritation. "Fine. Whatever. Maybe Boss'll decide to kill you after this," he muttered, turning and storming past you.

"I heard you," you said sweetly, and you trailed after him. You walked in a brisk pace, a hand pressed against your aching forehead, eyes flicking to and fro as you picked out location markers. If Levi was, in fact, leading you to an action room, it would do you good to remember its whereabouts.

Up a flight of stairs, down a darkened corridor. Sharp left. Another flight of stairs, shorter this time. Straight through a never-ending corridor. Another left. Through a set of double doors, leading to a four-passage intersection. Levi paused, then chose the middle.

He grunted upon arrival. You brushed past him, stopped only to bid him a half-hearted farewell, then threw the doors open and slipped inside.

The room was perfect. Huge and open, it could easily contain an army of one hundred people or less. The walls were reinforced steel, a couple places marked up with bullet holes, indicating use. The ceiling was brilliant; it was entirely made of glass, a window to the world outside. Judging by the violet bleeding out from the sky, and the stars that glimmered faintly, it was near dawn.

You checked the door, to make sure it was shut. Then you grasped the edges of your thermal, pulled it over your head. Dropped it to the ground.

The spot Xanxus had kicked you was tender, but not broken. You didn't dare believe he had softened the kick. However, it hadn't been as powerful as you'd expected it to be.

You ran your fingers against it, gauging the pain. Not much. You'd be fine.

You took a moment to twist your hair into a messy bun. Then you sought the bronze ring on your finger, yanked it once in a circle.

It took almost all your energy to call up the purple-tinged flames of cloud. "Cambio," you muttered. The flames leapt forward, expanding with thought; you rocked backward, assuming a somewhat defensive stance.

Here was where you would throw yourself into a savage dance. You would dance to a violent tune that almost none heard, one that made your heart pound and sweat break over your skin. You would dance until you were about to drop, and only then would you quit.

You threw your arms up, bent your back gracefully. Conjured the Cloud flames into a twisting cyclone. In the expanse of the action room, it was large enough to reach the ceiling and touch down. Artificial wind whipped ragingly.

You spent a couple of minutes controlling the cyclone, directing it to slam into this wall and that. All the while, you squeezed your eyes shut, envisioning shadow-clad enemy agents. Nimble and light, you avoided their advances, peppering each one with brutal kicks and jabs until he was fallen.

You and the cyclone moved as a pair: you twirled about, rushing your attackers, and when you paused a beat for breath, your cyclone moved.

Landing from an angled back flip, you waved your hand, doused the flame immediately. Called the next up. "Cambio!"

The Sun's activation kicked in almost immediately. Warmth engulfed your muscles, lightening your breath, bulking your physique slightly, restoring your energy. You were restless and felt invincible, and so you sprinted towards the far wall, running up the slippery steel surface for a couple of meters before flipping off.

"Whoo!" you laughed, and you buckled your knees, caught your balance in a handstand. Slowly, you lowered one hand so that you balanced on the other. Then you did a couple jumps, switching hands with each one.

It was as you were straightening back up that your Sun flame went out, unexpectedly and without any warning. The loss ripped through you like a bullet. You gasped, fingers blindly reaching out for your ring.

"Cambio."

For a tense moment, nothing happened, and then a buzzing filled your ears. Spiked-emerald flames appeared before you, a solid wall of defense. You focused on hardening the blaze. Sections splintered, gave way to green rock. But you only managed to solidify the middle.

On the edge of your mind, you heard a scoff. Involuntarily, you cocked your head, hoping to pinpoint the owner of the scoff. "_And here I thought you were a top Angiola agent, scum,"_ chortled an all-too familiar voice. "_Don't go making such big claims when you don't have the strength to back them."_

The wall crumpled into nothingness, and your ring flickered before giving out. You were dazed and panting for breath, like an animal on the run. Your head was fuzzy. You felt strangely numb, and you couldn't get sense of your bearings.

You called up the last flame.

"Cam—"

Liquid fire splattered through you. It raced down your spine, up your bones, into your chest, and squeezed. You fell to your knees, attempting to scream, but the pain blocked you from doing so.

Your hands scrambled for purchase, for your ring. Rain. It was killing you. _He_ was killing you. A nail hooked under the edge of your ring, and you began wrenching it off.

Your vision winked black.

_Water rushed into your mouth, an endless cycle, no beginning, no closure. You clawed at your throat, drowning_

You were unconscious before you hit the ground.

The ring flew from you and landed a couple feet away, clattering softly.


End file.
